


Can't Go Back to Yesterday

by Diaryofanarcissisticgayman



Series: Through the Looking Glass (I See You Staring Back at Me) [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Doctor Niall, Doctor Zayn, Down the Rabbit Hole!Verse, Famous Luke, Fireman Liam, Little bit of smut, M/M, Multiple characters get hospitalized, Stay-At-Home Parent Harry, Therapist Bressie, attempted suicide, mostly angst though, narry endgame - Freeform, so much fucking angst, someone gets shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:31:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 84,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman/pseuds/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He makes his way back past the A&E, his own personal stomping grounds as a trauma surgeon, and pushes open the door to his office. If he hadn’t trained so hard not to let his emotions get the better of him in stressful situations, then he’d have slammed the door and walked away again. “What are you doing here?” he sighs.</p><p>“You’d know what I’m here for if you ever returned a phone call, Niall.” is the response that the brunet gives. He’s traded in his long flowing locks for a more mature style that hugs closer to his head, showing off the adult he’s become with time and focus. His green eyes have faded to a more greyish color, though it also suits him well. He’s not the bright-faced boy that Niall fell in love with anymore. He’s older, more mature. He’s a father and a real man now, and he wears it well, though it pains Niall to admit it.</p><p>“I’ve told you not to come here. This is my place of work, Harry.” Niall says coldly, dropping the file and his coat on the desk and opening the small cupboard that he uses to store his scrubs. “If you have something you need, then talk to me about it on Saturday.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the final part chronologically in the DtRH-verse. I wanted to have it complete before I posted it, but some things have happened, and here we are. This story takes place 9 years after 'Down the Rabbit Hole', and the characters have changed a lot from back then. Harry is no longer the Cheshire Cat, and Niall is no longer a fresh-faced student. This fic is going to be angsty as shit, so buckle in. It's about to get really rough.
> 
> The parts in italics are flashbacks. That should be obvious when you start reading them, but I just thought I'd warn people. The flashbacks also don't necessarily follow a linear timeline. They jump around between more and less recent.

“Dr. Styles, there’s a man waiting for you in your office.” a nurse- Betty. Her name is Betty. Niall has got to get better at remembering the names of all the people he works with- tells him when he drops off the chart and the unsigned permission forms for the organ donation.

Mrs. Donaldson refuses to pull the plug and let her husband go yet, and Niall has to respect that. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t agree with it, but he has to respect it. So now he’s got to round on a case that just reminds him of his failure every day until she’s ready to let him die. He pushes the binder into the slot, and grabs the one for his next case, muttering a quick “Thanks, Betty.”

“Beth.” she says quietly, but Niall only registers it in the back of his mind. He’s too busy looking over the labs of a patient he’d had to piece back together last night after having fallen off a third story balcony onto his own car. He’s scheduled to go back into surgery in less than half an hour, so whoever is in Niall’s office had better make it quick.

He makes his way back past the A&E, his own personal stomping grounds as a trauma surgeon, and pushes open the door to his office. If he hadn’t trained so hard not to let his emotions get the better of him in stressful situations, then he’d have slammed the door and walked away again. “What are you doing here?” he sighs.

“You’d know what I’m here for if you ever returned a phone call, Niall.” is the response that the brunet gives. He’s traded in his long flowing locks for a more mature style that hugs closer to his head, showing off the adult he’s become with time and focus. His green eyes have faded to a more greyish color, though it also suits him well. He’s not the bright-faced boy that Niall fell in love with anymore. He’s older, more mature. He’s a father and a real man now, and he wears it well, though it pains Niall to admit it.

“I’ve told you not to come here. This is my place of work, Harry.” Niall says coldly, dropping the file and his coat on the desk and opening the small cupboard that he uses to store his scrubs. “If you have something you need, then talk to me about it on Saturday.”

“You say nine words to me on Saturdays.” Harry huffs, uncrossing his legs and standing up off the couch that serves as Niall’s bed more often than not these days. “They’re ‘Is he ready to go?’ and ‘See you next week.’”

“Have something worth saying then.” Niall spits out, loosening his tie and hanging it on the small carousel for them.

“I have plenty worth saying, Niall. You just refuse to listen to me.” Harry grits out.

“Because I’ve heard it all before, Harry.” Niall mutters, undoing the buttons on his shirt and slipping it off. Those words ‘Then I’ll believe in you’ glare up at him mockingly from his bicep, insulting the promise they’d made when they were still young and naïve. “I get it. I’m a terrible husband, a terrible father. I don’t feel like hearing it over and over again to sate whatever part of you it is that needs me to agree with it.”

“I’ve never said that.” Harry groans, the sound of it muffled by his hands over his face. Niall is used to the difference by now. “You know I’ve never said that.”

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you say it, Harry. It matters that you think it.” Niall snaps, tugging the bright blue cotton that denotes his position over his head. “That was obvious when you sued for full custody.”

“Noah needs a parent that’ll be around, Niall.” Harry mumbles. “And I relented on that.”

“One fucking day a week, for eight hours.” Niall snarls, slamming his fist against the plywood of the cupboard in an adamant refusal to look at his ex. “No holidays. No sleeping over. Eight hours at a place that you have to pre-approve, and that’s it.”

“Because that’s all you can be bothered to spare!” Harry counters mercilessly, diving right into the heart of the argument. “You’re the one who decided being a doctor was more important than your own family, Niall. Not Noah. Not me. You.”

“Get out.” Niall hisses. “Get the fuck out of my office and do not come back unless it’s about our son.”

“You need to sign these.” Harry replies icily, holding out a manila envelope. “I’m not letting this go, Niall. You can avoid it all you want, but if I have to get an affidavit for your signature, I will.”

“I don’t have time for this right now.” Niall mumbles, dropping his trousers to the floor and stepping into the pair of scrub bottoms he’d grabbed. “I have to go save a life. Because that’s what I do, Harry. I save lives. I don’t just fuck around, selling drugs and skin.”

“I haven’t been the Cheshire Cat since before you became a real doctor.” Harry sneers. “Don’t act like that’s still what I do, Niall. I’m a parent. Our child’s only real parent. You may save lives, but that doesn’t mean that what I do isn’t important.”

“Niall-” comes a voice from the door. “Oh. Um- Hi, Harry.”

“Of fucking course.” Harry groans. “Look, it’s your real husband to the rescue. Did you page him again, like you did to get out of our dinner plans?”

“Mr. Henson is being wheeled in for surgery now.” Zayn says, ignoring Harry’s attempts to goad him into a fight. “We need to get up there. His temperature is hovering around one hundred and two, so we’ll have to work quickly to reduce his exposure risk. Harry, I’d say it’s nice to see you, but it’s just been- Typical.”

“I’ll be up there in a minute, Zee.” Niall tells him. Zayn nods and closes the door again. “I don’t have it in me to do this right now, Harry. I really don’t. Leave the papers. I’ll get to them when I get to them. Probably after I get back at the end of next month.”

“You’re really doing it then?” Harry sighs. “You’re really going through with this for a second time?”

“I have to do this, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “I have to. They needed me then, and they need me now. The hurricane devastated Haiti, and they need me.”

“I needed you!” Harry yells. “Our son needed you! But no, Zayn says ‘Let’s do this.’ and you decide to run off for two months without even asking if I was okay with it. You had people here who needed you.”

“Syria was a warzone, Harry!” Niall returns with equal volume. “Was I supposed to just sit back and let him go alone when I could help? You wanted to not be lonely, but they needed someone who could help save the lives of people who were literally being blown to pieces! I’m a trauma surgeon! That is exactly what I was trained for!”

“Funny, I don’t remember you signing up for the military when you took your Hippocratic Oath.” Harry growls.

“It’s Doctors without Borders, Harry, not the military.” Niall huffs, tying on his scrub cap. “If you can’t understand why I did it, why I’m doing it again, then you definitely aren’t the man I married.”

“Sign the papers, Niall.” Harry says harshly, dropping them on the desk and stalking out the door. “I may not be the man you married anymore, but I’m definitely done fucking waiting to be the one you divorce.”

“Hey, you okay?” Zayn asks softly, sneaking back in once Harry has left.

“I’m fine.” Niall says calmly, pushing everything down to that cold, dark part of himself that’s been growing since Harry first decided that he was done with their marriage. “Let’s go. We have a surgery to perform.”

 

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Nialler.” Zayn says softly, wrapping his fingers around Niall’s wrist. Niall idly wonders if he’s searching for a pulse. Niall is awake, he talks, and walks, and eats, but whether he’s actually alive anymore is up for debate. “You can’t keep sleeping on this couch.”

“I hate my flat.” Niall mutters.

“Which is why you’re coming home with me tonight.” Zayn tells him adamantly. “Leeyum has already made up the guest bed for you.”

“I can’t sleep in a bed anymore.” Niall admits in a whisper. “I’m not being dramatic. I really, physically can’t sleep in a bed anymore, no matter how hard I try or how exhausted I am. It doesn’t feel right without him next to me. It keeps me awake all night if I don’t sleep on a couch so I have something pressed against me.”

“Then you can sleep on our couch. It’s better than this piece of shit.” Zayn says as lightly as he can manage. He still sounds stressed. Niall has been leaning on him too hard since Harry kicked him out. He’ll have to adjust that, pull back on his dependence on Zayn. Tonight though, it sounds brilliant to not be woken up by maintenance emptying his bin at five in the morning.

“Just for tonight.” Niall agrees.

“For as long as you need, Nialler.” Zayn says calmly. He means it. Niall knows he means it. He can’t do that to Zayn though. He can’t keep bringing the people around him down. “I don’t want you sleeping in here anymore when we get back from Haiti.”

“You realize that you’re not my boss, right?” Niall scoffs. “I’m yours.”

“Chief Resident is a title for the most pompous arse, not a real authority.” Zayn smirks.

“I don’t see how I beat you for the position then.” Niall snorts.

“There he is.” Zayn says quietly. “I knew he wasn’t gone.”

“Who?” Niall asks, looking around worriedly through the windows to his office because he’s too frayed, too raw, to deal with Harry again tonight.

“You.” Zayn answers, pressing a soft kiss to Niall’s temple and tugging him off of the couch. “I can’t remember the last time you actually quipped with me.”

“Zee-” Niall sighs.

“I know that it’s hard, Nialler.” Zayn murmurs, holding him in that soft, yet fiercely protective way that he does. “But you can’t just stop living because things get hard. You’ll get through this, and Leeyum and I are going to help you. Louis will too when he gets back. I’ve talked to him, and when we come back from Haiti, he’s coming over for a visit. Luke’s on tour and still will be, so he’d love an excuse to come back.”

“We’ll see.” Niall shrugs. He honestly doesn’t know if he could handle being around Louis’ particular brand of intensity (which hasn’t dampened at all with age) until he’s in a better place. Niall means that both figuratively and literally. His flat is a shit-hole that he only chose because it’s right across from the hospital. He hates it, but it’s still his home now, and Louis might just make him feel worse about it. “You know Tommo.”

“Yeah, I do.” Zayn nods. “And I know he’d pick up and move back here if he thought it would help you. You’ve kept him away ever since the separation, but he wants to be there for you, just like I do.”

“Zayn, I’m tired.” Niall mumbles, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Can we either go to your place, or can you leave me alone so I can sleep? My shift doesn’t start for seven hours, and this is the first time in two weeks that I’m not on-call. I’d like to get the most out of it that I can.”

“Working like we’re interns again.” Zayn mutters. Niall doesn’t think he was supposed to hear it though, so he doesn’t respond, just grabs his things out of the cupboard, and ignores the cripplingly painful clench in his chest when he turns out the lamp and sees the envelope again.

It’s not exactly like he enjoys adding hours onto what he already works. He doesn't want to be here for ninety hours a week. He doesn’t want to work six fifteen hour days in a row, time after time. He doesn’t have anything waiting for him at home though. No Harry or Noah anymore. Just a crappy pre-furnished flat that echoes how empty his life is now.

 

_“He’s perfect.” Harry whispers, wrapping his arms tighter around Niall’s waist. “God- He’s just- He’s so perfect.”_

_“Of course he’s perfect. He’s ours.” Niall chuckles, his eyes never leaving their son in his crib. He still can’t believe it. Everything they’ve gone through to get to this point seems trivial now when their son is sleeping so peacefully. All the fucking searching for a surrogate, the seemingly endless in-vitro treatments, two miscarriages, over a year’s worth of flights back and forth between London and New York, none of that matters, because their family has expanded and Niall thinks his heart might just burst with how happy he is._

_“He looks like you.” Harry murmurs._

_“Don’t see how.” Niall snorts. “You’re the father.”_

_“Yeah, but he has the same face you do when you sleep.” Harry says, pressing a smile into Niall’s neck and sending a shiver down his spine. “So peaceful. Angelic, even.”_

_“I don’t want to go back to our room. Is that weird?” Niall asks. “I just want to stay right here and watch him sleep.”_

_“We need to take the sleep where we can get it, but if you want to take the first shift, I’m fine with that.” Harry laughs quietly. “I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep though, if that’s alright.”_

_“Go. I’ll sleep in the morning once you’ve woken up.” Niall insists, nuzzling his cheek against Harry’s. “I don’t think I could sleep right now if I tried anyways.”_

_“I envy your energy.” Harry giggles, pressing a kiss to Niall’s cheek and then leaning forward to place his lips gently on Noah’s forehead. He squirms, his face scrunching up like he’s about to scream like he did for the entire plane ride back to London. Harry had paid for everyone to have as much to eat and drink as they wanted in apology, but that hadn’t stopped Noah from screeching like a banshee until he fell asleep. Niall braces himself for it, but it never comes. Noah’s face relaxes and he lets out a breathy little huff before dozing back off._

_He should have expected that. Outside of the plane, Noah has barely cried at all unless he needed his nappy changed or he was hungry. Noah’s the calmest newborn that Niall has ever seen, and he just did a rotation in paedeatrics not that long ago, so he’s seen a lot of them. He even sleeps well for a newborn, often falling back asleep right after his feedings until he’s ready to wake up properly and learn about the world. He’s only a week old, but Niall really believes he’s learning already. He regards everything with wide, curious eyes that are so much like Harry’s that it’s crazy, even though they’re still that newborn blue._

_Harry gives Niall another soft kiss before he goes shuffling tiredly off to their bedroom across the hall. Niall can read the exhaustion in his movements, the way he’s barely slept since Noah was born. Niall doesn’t blame him for it. If he wasn’t used to getting little to no sleep for days on end, he’d be just as bad off. For now though, he’s perfectly content to curl up in the rocking chair they’d set up all that time ago and watch his son sleep. Nothing on Earth could be better than that._

 

“I thought your shift started at eight.” Liam mumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when he walks into the kitchen.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Niall mutters, pouring a cup of coffee for Liam.

“Bad dreams?” Liam asks cautiously, taking the cup with a sympathetic smile.

“Good ones.” Niall whispers. “Doesn’t matter. I’m a doctor. I can always go in early.”

“Are you even any good for patients if you never sleep?” Liam asks softly.

“I wouldn’t operate if I couldn’t handle it, Li. You know me better than that.” Niall says with a bit more bite than is strictly necessary. Liam struck a particularly painful nerve though. Niall fears nothing more than that his lack of sleep will affect his work, that it’ll cause him to make a mistake at a crucial moment, but he can’t do anything other than focus twice as hard to make sure that everything he does is right. He can’t take pills anymore. He can’t force himself to sleep. He’s powerless against this fucking tidal wave of shit that constitutes his life. “The four and a half hours I got should be more than enough. Slept less than that when I was an intern.”

“You’re not in your twenties anymore, Niall.” Liam says, ruffling his hand through Niall’s sleep-mussed hair. “You have to slow down eventually. You know what happens when you don’t.”

“I did slow down.” Niall sighs, ignoring the warning in Liam’s voice. “I was only working sixty hours a week, and I was perfectly content with that. That wasn’t enough though. It didn’t mean shit that I slowed down, so I’m done doing it. I don’t have anything left other than my career, so that’s what I have to focus on.”

“You still have a son, Niall.” Liam points out.

“For eight hours a week.” Niall says quietly. “I have a son for less time than I spend in surgery on any given weekday.”

“It’s still something, Niall.” Liam says firmly. “And you have me and Zayn.”

“Why are you okay with it?” Niall asks, balling his hands into fists on top of the counter. “Why can you handle that we’re going to help people, but he can’t?”

“Because it doesn’t make me into a single parent.” Liam shrugs. “I miss Zayn like hell when you two do this, but I know that you two have to do what you can to help people. It’s the same thing I feel every day. I can’t very well hold it against him that there are people out there who need help, and that he wants to help them, just because they aren’t here in London. Not when you consider that I run into burning buildings regularly for the same reason.

“But, Niall, Harry isn’t me. He has more than just you and himself to consider. There’s Noah too. I can’t say that I would be okay with Zayn going away like this if we had a child at home. It’s not like when you go over there, it’s completely safe. There are risks that come along with it, and Harry must feel like those risks aren’t worth it for you two. He doesn’t want your son to grow up without one of his fathers.”

“Then why the fuck would he make it so that I never get to see him?” Niall growls.

“Maybe he’s trying to make a point.” Liam offers.

“Well I can’t fucking see it then.” Niall mutters bitterly, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair and standing up. He heads out the door without another word. He never should have asked. It doesn’t matter why Harry can’t handle it. All that matters is that he can’t. He can’t let Niall do what he needs to do, and that says everything.

 

“Damn it!” Niall screams, launching a vase against a wall. It’s nothing special, just another trinket Harry had picked out for him when he’d seen it one day and had still loved Niall. Niall feels like crying once he realizes what he’s done, but that doesn’t stop his rampage. “Fuck!”

“Stop!” Zayn yells at him, wrapping his arms around Niall’s torso and pinning them to his side. “Nialler, there’s nothing you could have done. She was too far gone. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I fucked up, Zayn.” Niall sobs. “I should have been able to do it. I should have saved her! She was sixteen!”

“She was hit by a bus, Nialler.” Zayn murmurs. “We can’t save everyone. That’s the first thing they taught us. Say it.”

“Zayn-” Niall starts.

“Say it.” Zayn orders harshly.

“We can’t save everyone.” Niall chokes out.

“Remember that, Nialler.” Zayn tells him, tightening his grip around Niall as his knees buckle.

“She’s my third one this week.” Niall whispers, sinking to the ground. “Three already. It’s only Tuesday.”

“You’re a trauma surgeon, Nialler. It’s bound to happen.” Zayn sighs, taking a seat on the ground next to him. “They’re mostly dead when they get to you anyways.”

“My success rate has gone down by fifteen percent since- Since-” Niall can’t even get the words out.

“Since Harry left you.” Zayn finishes for him. “Nialler, I know that it might seem like those things are connected, but they aren’t. I’ve seen you in surgery. You don’t let anything get to you while you’re in there. You’ve just been given harder cases since you declared your specialty. It’s easy to keep a high success rate when you only get basic cases, and you aren’t the lead surgeon on the difficult ones. Don’t slip down this path again. Don’t let yourself fall back down to where you were before.”

“I’m not going to slip, Zee.” Niall mutters. “I won’t let that happen again. But you can’t honestly sit there and tell me you think my divorce hasn’t taken a toll on my abilities.”

“It hasn’t.” Zayn argues. “You’re a fucking wreck anywhere outside of surgery, but when you’re in there you’re perfect. Sometimes I wish you could just stay in there all the time, because then at least you wouldn’t be falling apart.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Niall scoffs. “If it weren’t for fucking rounds and charts and basic bodily functions, I’d be in there every hour of every day that I don’t get to spend with Noah.”

“You need to start thinking about the rest of your life, Niall. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep up the way you have been.” Zayn says gently, pushing his fingers through Niall’s brown hair in a way that’s probably meant to be soothing. “Have you thought about dating?”

“No.” Niall admits. “I- I don’t think I’m meant to be with anyone if I couldn’t make it work with Harry. I’m done with that part of my life, Zee.”

“You’re thirty-two, Nialler. Don’t throw in the towel already.” Zayn mutters. “Is- Is Harry dating?”

“I haven’t asked.” Niall shrugs. “Probably. It’s always the one who asks for the divorce that moves on first. And he still looks bloody good. You saw him.”

“I don’t think we saw the same thing yesterday, Niall.” Zayn sighs. “I don’t think he’s been sleeping much more than you have. He looked stressed.”

“Of course he looked stressed, Zayn. I’ve been putting off signing the paperwork for weeks, and he finally decided he’s done with it.” Niall mumbles.

“Why are you putting it off?” Zayn asks.

“Because I’m not ready for my marriage to be over yet.” Niall whispers.

 

_“Just one more week?” Harry begs, his grip tight around Niall’s wrist._

_“Haz, I’ve already taken two weeks more of paternity leave than I’m entitled to.” Niall sighs. “I’m just barely a resident. I can’t take more time off. I have to go back.”_

_“I need you here, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “I- I’m not ready to do this alone yet.”_

_“Yes you are, Haz.” Niall tells him. “You’re amazing with Noah. I’ve never seen a parent so natural. And if something happens, I’m only a call away. I have to go though. I can’t lose my slot for taking all this time off.”_

_“The chief said you could have as much time off as you need to get things settled, Niall.” Harry huffs. “You could stay if you wanted to.”_

_“Of course I want to stay, Haz.” Niall bites out, tearing his hand away from Harry’s grasp. “But there are other things that are important to me. I’ve put seven years into training to be a doctor already. I can’t stop now just because we have a kid. You knew I was going back, that I wasn’t giving up my career when Noah was born.”_

_“I’m sorry.” Harry sighs. “I’m not- I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I just wish you could be around a little longer. I’m not ready to let go of you again yet. Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve gotten to wake up and go to bed together every day.”_

_“I know, Haz.” Niall murmurs, pressing a kiss to the unruly fringe on his husband’s forehead. “In a few years everything will settle down. I’ll have a more manageable schedule. We knew this going in. You said you still wanted to do it.”_

_“I did- I do- But it just feels weird I guess.” Harry mumbles. “Even with Noah, this house seems so empty without you in it.”_

_“Which is why I kept saying we should have looked for something smaller.” Niall points out. “Remember?”_

_“Yes.” Harry groans, pulling a face at Niall for reminding him. “I fucking love this place though. It’s amazing. It’s just big.”_

_“Invite Gemma and Olli over then. Or Louis. He’s all lonely right now waiting for Luke to get back from their supporting tour with Fall Out Boy.” Niall offers._

_“Maybe.” Harry shrugs._

_“I’ll be back sooner than you think, Haz.” Niall tells him. “I made sure I’m not on call at all for the next two weeks, so I’ll still be here at night. We’ll make it through this.”_

_“I know.” Harry nods. “We’ll always make it through anything.”_


	2. Chapter 2

“Harry?” Niall asks in surprise, opening the door to his ex’s face far earlier than he’d have like to see anyone at all. A weight hits him around the knees and Niall almost falls back in surprise. He looks down to find an all too familiar head of wavy brown hair and big green eyes that hit him harder than they should. “Noh-Noh? Hey, Bubba!”

He takes his son up when the boy lifts his arms to be held. “Hi Papa!” Noah beams. “It’s Saturday!”

“Yeah it is.” Niall laughs, an increasingly foreign feeling smile breaking out on his lips as Noah presses a kiss to his cheek. He quickly returns it tenfold, peppering pecks all over his son’s cherubic little face. “How much do I love you?”

“To the stars and back.” Noah giggles. “Can we get pancakes?”

“Yeah.” Niall chuckles. “Let me go get dressed, and then we’ll go out, yeah? You go play until I’m ready.”

“Okay.” Noah grins, squirming until Niall sets him down and he takes off for the second bedroom that Niall uses to store the things he’d gotten when he thought he’d still be allowed to have a relationship with his son.

“It’s early.” Niall sighs once Noah is out of ear-shot.

“I uh- I thought I’d give you two a bit more time together since you’re leaving again.” Harry shrugs. “Maybe even let him spend the night.”

“Really?” Niall asks, and if he weren’t so thrilled he’d hate himself for letting out this level of desperation into his voice in front of Harry.

“He deserves it.” Harry mumbles. “I haven’t told him about your trip though. You’re going to have to do that yourself.”

“Do um- Do you want to join us for breakfast?” Niall asks. It’s not a real offer, just him trying to be polite in thanks for all that Harry is giving him right now. The thought of spending the entire morning with Harry makes Niall’s stomach twist, and he honestly doesn’t know how they’d make it through without fighting. They haven’t had one pleasant conversation so far since Harry told Niall he wanted a divorce. Of course, for as perceptive as Harry claims to be, and even after half a decade of working in a job where his biggest skill was supposed to be reading people, he never seems to pick anything like that up.

“Yeah. That sounds nice actually.” Harry nods. “Didn’t get a chance to eat yet.”

“That’s not like you.” Niall points out, stepping to the side to let Harry in before he heads back to his bedroom.

“I told Noah that we were going to see Papa early, and he wouldn’t give me two minutes to do anything other than get ready.” Harry admits. He follows after Niall, though the shorter man wishes he wouldn’t. He doesn’t have any problems getting changed in front of Harry, they’ve seen each other naked plenty over the last eight years, but it doesn’t feel appropriate under the circumstances, and Niall isn’t as put together right now as he needs Harry to believe he is.

Most of his flat is clean, though that’s the result of spending as little time here as possible, rather than Niall actually doing much to keep it tidy. His bedroom is another story. He has dirty clothes scattered everywhere and there’s definitely a fair number of empty beer bottles on his nightstand. It’s not exactly the image he wants to present when Harry is finally considering letting Noah spend the night again. It’s just been a rough week. A fucking year of rough weeks really, but this one has been particularly hard. His body count for the week was nine as of last night, and he has one patient still in intensive care who’s not going to make it without a miracle, which Niall knows means that he’s not going to make it.

He shucks off his shirt, but keeps his boxers in place for now. He rifles through his dresser for casual wear, something he rarely has need of these days, and finds a jumper the color of the dreary October morning’s sky above London. He locates his only clean pair of jeans, and then grabs socks and pants from a drawer before walking into his bathroom to avoid looking at Harry, or letting Harry see him.

He rushes around to put on deodorant, cologne, anything that’ll cover up the fact that he hasn’t taken a proper shower yet since he wasn’t planning to pick Noah up until noon, because that’s the damn schedule. Niall is excited, beyond thrilled really, that he gets to spend the entire day with Noah, but Harry really should have fucking called before he came over. Niall’s just glad that last night was the first time since he slept at Zayn’s that his friend hadn’t insisted on staying with him through the night, regardless of location, just to make sure Niall isn’t staying in his office. Harry has a habit of not reacting well to Zayn since the first time they went with Doctors Without Borders, though that’s really Niall’s fault, and not Zayn’s or Harry’s.

He shoves himself into the clothes he’d picked out and does a quick styling of his hair with one hand while the other brushes his teeth vigorously. It’s not the most graceful of morning routines, but it is efficient. How effective it really is? That’s up for debate. He has one stubborn cowlick in his hairline that refuses to lay flat, and there’s just nothing he can do about the deep purple bags under his eyes that show off how little sleep he can manage when he keeps dreaming of the good times that have all gone away. They’re worse than nightmares these days. Nightmares he can push away, because they aren’t real. The memories are though, and they’re all Niall has.

“No- Fuck!” Niall hisses, digging his palms into his eyes sharply at the all too familiar sensation building up, in an attempt to push away the tears before they can start. “One day, Niall. Just make it through one fucking day without crying. You can break down on the plane on Monday. Just hold it together for Noah.”

It’s not Noah that stems the tide for him though. It’s Harry. He refuses to let Harry see what kind of effect he still has on Niall, how fucking easy it is for him to send Niall spiraling with nothing more than his presence. Niall doesn’t know how the hell he’s going to make it through this fucking breakfast. “Alright-” he says, stepping out of the bathroom. “Let’s go.”

“Your uh- Your jumper has a big spot of bleach on it.” Harry mumbles.

“Oh, god damn it!” Niall groans, taking in the spot on his side that Harry is pointing at.

“You never were any good at laundry.” Harry chuckles.

“No, I really wasn’t.” Niall agrees, just to keep himself from snapping that it was Harry who ruined an entire load of his scrubs once. He’s not going to let Harry goad him into a fight. He’s not. He strips off the jumper and steps over to his wardrobe. It’s basically bare these days. Niall refused to keep any clothes that reminded him of Harry, which was pretty much all of them, since Harry loved to steal Niall’s clothes to drive him wild, and he really doesn’t have time to go shopping anymore. He barely remembers to get groceries most of the time.

He finds one Henley completely clear of any stains and pulls that on. It’s not one he wants to wear in front of Harry, Zayn had bought it for him a couple days ago for when he’s finally ready to date because the deep blue ‘makes his eyes pop’, but he’s out of options.

“You haven’t been working out.” Harry says quietly. As much as Niall would like to believe it’s meant to be an insult, it doesn’t have the bite to be. It’s just an observation. An accurate one at that. Niall hasn’t gained weight, but rather the opposite. The hard-earned muscle he’d spent years building with Harry, the tone to his torso and ass and thighs, they’ve just kind of disappeared because he rarely eats anything more than a few mouthfuls a day to keep his stomach from getting too upset, and the only exercise he gets is walking around the hospital. It’s enough to keep him relatively healthy, but not enough to look it.

“It’s a bit harder to fit it in when I don’t have a gym in the house anymore.” Niall shrugs, fiddling with the sleeves and keeping his eyes down. He hates himself for fidgeting, knows it gives away his nerves like a flashing neon sign, but he can’t stop himself. He would be halfway through a pack of fags right now if he hadn’t run out the night before. He had quit smoking when Noah was born, but, since he doesn’t live with his son anymore, he didn’t have a good reason not to start back up. Harry isn’t supposed to know, because it shouldn’t matter since he doesn’t do it around Noah, but the disturbingly full ashtray next to the bed probably gives him away.

“Papa!” Noah huffs from the doorway. His expression is a perfect mirror of Harry’s when he gets frustrated, and it’s like an arrow to the gut for Niall. “Pancakes!”

“Coming, Noh-Noh.” Niall tells him, forcing a smile to fall across his features as he walks over and grabs his son’s outstretched hand. “Daddy’s going to come with us for breakfast. Sound good?”

“Yes!” Noah squeals excitedly, rushing over to the door to put on his wellies since it’s started raining outside. He grabs his bright yellow mac and pulls it on to complete the ensemble, beaming like a little ray of golden sunshine in his outfit. “Let’s go get pancakes!”

 

Noah got Niall’s former appetite, but Harry’s taste in food. He’s tearing his way through a short-stack of wheat-germ pancakes that have sliced bananas instead of syrup (the meal he gets every week when he begs Niall to go out for breakfast, even though Niall picks him up at noon every week), and Niall shakes his head fondly. Harry is eating a bowl of dry oats mixed with honey, Greek yoghurt, and berries. He’s splurging.

It’s still more than Niall though, who’s made it through two cups of coffee, and is working steadily on a third while Noah rambles on about what they did this week in preschool. Niall can’t really follow it because, unlike his father, Noah speaks at nearly warp speed about everything. But he nods along, smiling and nodding at what he feels are the appropriate intervals.

Noah’s far more focused on his second plate of pancakes at the moment though, which leaves an awkward silence in the air. Harry decides to try and fill it with, “I didn’t mean that you looked bad earlier, Niall. You can eat breakfast.”

“Papa doesn’t eat breakfast.” Noah informs him before Niall can make an excuse.

“I don’t like eating so soon after I wake up.” Niall shrugs, gluing his eyes to the steam rising off of his coffee rather than letting himself look at Harry’s face. He doesn’t know what he’ll see there, but he knows that for his own sanity he can’t look.

“You love breakfast.” Harry says quietly.

“Things change. People change.” Niall mutters, doing his utmost to keep the edge out of his voice. Fighting in front of Noah has always been something they don’t do, and he wants to keep it that way. There’s a reason they agreed that, on Niall’s days, Harry doesn’t stick around. Maybe that’s the point though. Maybe after their fight, Harry is trying to find any reason to petition the court to take full custody, and Niall refuses to let that happen. “Makes my stomach feel heavy when I’m in surgery. Makes me slow.”

“You’re not operating today, Niall.” Harry points out.

“It’s habit.” Niall counters. “I’m not hungry, Harry, so I’m not going to eat.”

“Fine.” Harry sighs, refocusing on his bowl and dropping it. He’s upset though, and Niall can tell by the way he’s pushing his berries around with his spoon. It infuriates Niall how much he wants to take it back, how he wants to order a muffin, or a bagel, or anything, if it’ll stop Harry from sulking. It’s still fucking instinct to want to make that stupidly beautiful smile pop back up on his face.

Niall stops himself though. Harry’s happiness isn’t dependent on Niall anymore, and Niall needs to accept that. Today means nothing to Harry. It’s just him doing something for his son. Niall doesn’t factor into that for him.

“All done!” Noah pipes up, blissfully unaware of the tension hanging over the table. Niall is almost grateful that this happened while Noah is still young, that he hasn’t learned to catch onto the little things, like how Niall and Harry haven’t looked at each other properly even once since they sat down. He’s just excited to have both of his parents in one place, to be away from school, and to get pancakes, which Harry almost never makes anymore because he’s on a gluten-free, processed-sugar-free, low-sodium, who-knows-what-the-fuck-else-is-involved diet. Niall feels like he’s on the highway to hell, but Noah is in heaven. “Now what Papa?”

“What do we always do next, Noh-Noh?” Niall asks in response.

“The park!” Noah giggles. “Can Daddy come too? Please, Papa?”

“Noah-” Niall starts, but he’s impaled through the heart when Noah’s smile starts to slip. It’s a terrible idea. The worst fucking idea. He can’t let Harry come along all day if he wants to ever recover. “If he has time and wants to come.”

“I think I can do that.” Harry smiles down at Noah. Fuck him. “Go to the loo first though. I don’t want to have to have Papa pull over so you can wee once we’re halfway there.”

“I know the way. We come here every week.” Noah tells him when Harry tries to scoot out after him. “I’m a big boy, Daddy. I can wee without you.”

“If you insist.” Harry shrugs, settling back into place. He waits until Noah wanders off to say “He’s feisty like you.”

“I need to make a call. Meet you at the car.” Niall mutters, dropping his keys on the table along with the money for their meal. He leaves before Harry can get a word in, his fingers already dialing out Zayn’s number once the damp London air hits him.

“Nialler? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Noah?” Zayn asks worriedly, picking up after only two rings. Niall never calls on Saturdays, choosing to dedicate every second of his time to Noah, so he isn’t surprised that Zayn automatically assumes the worst.

“Noah’s fine.” Niall breathes out. “Harry- He’s letting me have the whole day with Noah.”

“Then why do you sound like you’re about to cry?” Zayn asks.

“Because he’s fucking tagging along.” Niall chokes out. “He- I asked him to breakfast. I didn’t mean to do it, but I did, and now he’s just fucking adding himself into the whole day. Noah asked if he could come to the park with us too, and I can’t say anything, because Harry is finally giving me more than just a few hours with Noah, but- I just- I don’t know if I can handle being with him all day. My heart hurts right now.”

“Nialler.” Zayn says softly. It’s just his name, but it sounds like sympathy and admonishment all at once. “It’s worth it, isn’t it? Just ignore him and focus on Noah. Spend some real time with your son while you have the chance before we leave.”

“I know.” Niall sighs. “Fuck. I know.”

“Do- Do you want me and Leeyum to come out with you guys?” Zayn offers.

“No.” Niall rushes out. “You guys need this weekend together as much as I need it with Noah. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

“You can always call, Nialler.” Zayn tells him. “We love you.”

“Love you guys too.” Niall says before ringing off.

Niall walks over to his car to find Noah playing in the back with one of the action figures that Zayn and Liam had gotten him for his birthday, while Harry sits quietly in the passenger seat. “Alright, let’s go to the park.” Niall says through a smile that’s faker than it’s ever been.

 

“Papa, it’s just a rock with a bunch of squiggles on it. It’s boring.” Noah groans, tugging insistently on Niall’s hand. The park hadn’t kept Noah’s attention for long before he’d gotten a bit grumpy. He’s an incredibly neat child, hating any dirt or mud to touch his skin or clothes. Niall had to move on to his next plan of the British Museum earlier than expected, but he’s fine with that. It’s dry here. Dry and warm.

“It’s a lot more than that, Noh-Noh.” Niall chuckles, squatting down to get on his level. “See how up top there’s a lot of little pictures?”

“Um- Yeah.” Noah nods after squinting at it for a minute.

“Those are called hieroglyphics.” Niall explains. “They were like the alphabet for some people way, way back in the past. Now see how it changes into some weird letters in the middle, and then it changes again near the bottom?”

“Yeah.” Noah says, his eyes scanning over the stone.

“The middle part is in a form of writing called demotic, and then the bottom part is in Greek.” Niall continues. “When we first discovered hieroglyphics, the pictures at the top, we couldn’t tell what they meant because nobody could read them anymore. But this stone changed all of that. All three parts tell the same story, and that let us translate from the part we knew - the Greek - to find out what the hieroglyphic parts said.”

“If they couldn’t read it, how do they know it’s the same story?” Noah asks.

“Because of the middle part.” Niall chuckles, shocked by how perceptive Noah is sometimes. He’s not quite as smart as Oliver was when he was Noah’s age, but he’s still smarter than Niall was, and has a natural knack for getting to the point. “A few people could read that, and that helped people know that it was the same.”

“Oh.” Noah says, nodding along in understanding. “So this big rock helped the people from the past tell their stories to us now?”

“That’s a great way of putting it.” Niall laughs. “Yeah. It’s cool when you think about it like that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. What story does it tell?” Noah asks.

“It tells about a king who tried to unite all the people of his land.” Niall hums. “It tells about what he did to make life easier for the people, and the battles he fought, and how he was like the son of the god Horus, brought down to Earth.”

He leaves out the more complex parts about tax remittance, and the expansion of temples, and the other things that don’t interest children. He knows he’s made the right decision when Noah stares up at the stone, wonderment shining bright in his eyes. He’s still young enough to find things like history interesting, something that Niall hopes sticks with him through his life. Far too many people forget the importance of the past.

“That’s so cool.” Noah giggles, pressing right up against the velvet rope to get a closer look at the Rosetta Stone. “Who thought a big rock could do all of that?”

“See? It’s not so boring now, is it?” Niall muses.

“Nope.” Noah laughs. He turns towards the room’s exit anyways, beckoning Niall to follow along. It’s not until Harry speaks up beside him that Niall even remembers he’s still there.

“I can’t believe that you brought him to a museum that doesn’t even have dinosaurs.” Harry giggles. Niall hates that sound, because, even now, it still makes his chest swell up with something unidentifiable. “And I can’t believe he actually seems to be enjoying it.”

“He may be your son, Harry, but he still takes after me in a few ways.” Niall shrugs, following after Noah. “I may not have always been there as much as any of us would have liked, but I did have some influence on him, little as it may be.”

“Niall-” Harry sighs. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight.”

“Then stop making it seem like I don’t know my own son well enough to choose an activity that he’ll enjoy for the day. I’ve been planning this for weeks.” Niall admits. “I know you probably think that I just- I don’t know- Wing it or something on Saturdays, but I don’t. I always try to pick something that he’ll have a happy memory of at some point in the future. I can’t give him everything that you can, I know that, but I’m trying my best here.”

“I know.” Harry says quietly, placing a hand on Niall’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything more when Niall flinches away, the touch searing itself into his skin like a red-hot poker.

“Papa look!” Noah squeals, running over to Niall and stopping whatever was about to happen before it could start. “They’ve got a picture activity! Can we get a picture taken?”

“Of course Noh-Noh.” Niall grins, placing his hand in his son’s smaller one and letting himself be led away from Harry.

When they find the activity area, led to it by a sea of colorful signs, Noah is immediately drawn to a picture of a bright golden chariot that they can get green-screened with. He’s a little disappointed when he realizes that they don’t get to sit in the real thing, but the photographer shows him how it works, and he gets absolutely giddy. “It’s like magic!” he beams.

So he and Niall sit on the bench, but Noah isn’t having it. He refuses to sit still until Harry joins them because he wants both of his fathers in the ‘magic picture’, and Niall has to concede. The photographer prints one off for each of them, and Noah whispers something that Niall doesn’t catch to the photo. He has to admit though, it’s a nice picture. They look happy together. You’d never guess from looking at it that Harry doesn’t love Niall anymore, or that Niall’s heart shattered when Harry wrapped an arm around both Niall’s and Noah’s shoulders. They look like a real family, not a broken one.

 

Noah takes the news of Niall’s trip better than expected. There are tears from both him and Niall, but everything is soothed with pizza and ice cream and several cartoon movies until Noah falls asleep spread out on the couch over both Niall and Harry’s laps. Niall doesn’t have the strength left in him to tell Harry to leave, even though he doesn’t really have any reason to still be here. Noah has been asleep for almost half an hour already, but Harry has made no move to leave.

“Do you want anything?” Niall asks, scooting out slowly from under Noah’s legs and heading towards the table to gab the pizza box and put it away.

“We need to talk.” Harry says quietly behind him, startling Niall so badly that he almost drops the beer he’d grabbed out of the fridge.

“Let me put him to bed first then.” Niall sighs. He had a feeling this was coming. Harry had to have stuck around just so that they could do this. It only makes sense that he had an ulterior motive. “Wait in my room. The walls should help keep the volume down.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, shifting past Harry to find Noah still sleeping peacefully on the couch. He sleeps like Harry, which means he’s basically dead to the world until he’s had at least eight hours. Niall lifts him gently, unsure whether Noah has always felt this heavy in his arms, or if it’s the way he’s not quite the man he used to be.

For the first time ever, Niall lays Noah down in the bed, tucking him under the covers and pressing a kiss into his fringe before shutting off everything except for his night light. Niall doesn’t even know if Noah still uses a night light, but he did the last time he slept in the same place as Niall, so it stays on just in case. He doesn’t want to leave. Rather, he wants to stay and soak in this sight for as long as he can before Noah leaves in the morning, but as the minutes stretch on, he can feel himself coming undone from the anxiety. Harry is waiting for him, and that doesn’t bode well.

“If this is about the papers, I told you I’d sign them when I get back and can have my solicitor look over them, Harry.” Niall says right off the bat, barely giving the door time to close behind him before the words are out.

“It’s not about the paperwork, Niall.” Harry tells him. “It’s about Noah.”

“Oh my god.” Niall breathes out. “I was right. You’re using this trip as an excuse to go for full custody again. You’re going to fucking sue me when I won’t even be in the country to defend myself. Well I’m not going down without-”

“Shut up, Niall!” Harry snaps. “I’m not suing for full custody. I’m offering you more time with Noah.”

“What? Harry, I leave Monday morning. I’d love to have him tomorrow, but I have last minute preparations and I’ll be at the hospital all day. It wouldn’t be any fun for him at all.” Niall sighs.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Harry says, shaking his head. “What if- What if this was a weekly thing? What if you had him from noon on Saturday to noon on Sunday every week?”

“Why now?” Niall asks. “Less than a week ago, you were so fed up with me that you came to my office just to yell at me about being a bad father. What do you want? You got the house and the cars and fucking everything. I don’t have any more to give you, Harry, unless you want fucking alimony too, just to spite me.”

“Don’t go.” Harry whispers. “That’s all. Just stay here and I’ll amend the custody agreement. I don’t want anything else.”

“Harry, I leave in a little over twenty four hours. I can’t back out now.” Niall groans. “I’ll only be gone for six weeks. Do you know what the difference between six weeks here, and six weeks there is? In six weeks here, I’d get to spend less than a week with Noah, even with your offer. In six weeks there I can save hundreds of lives. Hundreds.”

“Why are they more important to you than your own family?” Harry asks, that harsh, unforgiving tone creeping into his voice.

“They’re not, Harry.” Niall says softly. “Noah is the most important thing in the world to me. Nothing else even comes close. If it weren’t for him- I- I don’t even know what I’d do. I can’t stay here for six days’ worth of time though. Not when I could help so many people who need it by going.”

“So not even this could change your mind?” Harry spits out. “I’m offering you three times more time with your son, but you’re just going to turn it down?”

“Don’t you think this is fucking killing me to say, Harry?” Niall growls. “Noah is the only thing I have left in the world! The one god-damn bright spot in my fucking life! I don’t want to lose even a second with him, but you took him away from me. So all I have to do with myself is to help other people so I can try to make it from day to day. This trip- It’s the only thing I’ve done since you asked for a divorce that I can say I’m proud of myself for. Even though I have to give up the one thing that matters to me, I’m going to help other people. Why can’t you see that that doesn’t make me a terrible fucking person?”

“I never thought you were a terrible person, Niall!” Harry yells. “You’re so far from being a terrible person that it’s heartbreaking. This would be so much easier if you were a terrible person, because then I wouldn’t have any qualms about what’s happened. But you aren’t. You’re a fucking godsend to those people. You throw yourself into dangerous situations, never thinking of the possible consequences for yourself. All you ever care about is trying to help people, so much so that you forget that there are people here who need you too, who don’t know what they’d do if anything happened to you. People who might never recover if they lost you.”

“Funny coming from you.” Niall mutters. “Considering you’re the one who took him away from me in the first place.”

“God - You don’t get it. You never fucking get it!” Harry snaps. All of the restraint he’s displayed all day has flown out the window now, and Niall would be proud of himself for doing that, for making Harry be the first one to lose control, if Harry didn’t look about two seconds from decapitating him. His hands are clenched into fists so tight that all the blood has vacated his knuckles. Niall doesn’t know if he’s ever even seen Harry look this truly furious, his eyes dark and the veins in his neck bulging dangerously.

Niall doesn’t expect it when Harry lunges forward, his fist swinging up towards Niall’s face. They’ve fought countless times in the last year, in their entire relationship actually, but they’ve never laid a hand on each other. Not ever. He braces himself, but the impact from Harry’s fist never comes. His palm slams flat onto the door just to the side of Niall’s head. His entire body is pressed against Niall, not leaving an inch of space when he ducks down and crashes his lips into Niall’s.

Niall doesn’t even know how to react. He knows he should push Harry away, that this can’t possibly end in anything except disaster, but fuck if he doesn’t want this. So he gives in, lets himself have one thing to hold onto, because he needs to be selfish right now. His hands find Harry’s hips, pulling him that tiny bit closer. His mouth opens willingly, and Harry takes that as the invitation it is, pushing forward until Niall is encased by the door and Harry’s body.

Niall fists his hands in the fabric of Harry’s jumper, lifting it just a bit in a silent question of just where this is going. Harry raises his arms, and that’s it. That’s the point of no return for Niall. He’s going to hell for what he’s about to do, but that’s perfectly fine with him. For this one moment, he has Harry back, and that’s worth all the pain that’s going to come later, no matter how bad it is.

Clothes are removed hurriedly between almost violently intense snogs, never giving themselves a second to think about anything other than the intensely familiar bodies underneath the pads of their fingers. Where Niall has softened, has shrank, Harry is as firm and powerful as ever. His hands are strong still, lifting Niall easily as they stumble to the bed. Within all that strength though, there’s still that same gentleness that Niall always loved so much.

His arms are steady as he lays Niall out beneath him, crawling in only a second later until he’s settled between Niall’s legs. Nothing slows down. It can’t. If they give themselves any time at all to actually think about this, then the weight of it all will come crashing into them and ruin it. So Niall anchors himself to Harry, digging his nails into the larger man’s shoulders, his legs coming up to lock around the strong waist.

Harry shows no signs of pulling back though, mouthing at the line of Niall’s neck until he reaches the junction between his neck and shoulder, biting down harshly. Niall cries out, rutting up against Harry. It’s going to bruise, Niall knows it, but he just doesn’t care. It’ll be there to remind him tomorrow that this wasn’t just another dream like the ones he’s had so often since Harry left him.

Words haven’t needed to be exchanged between them in bed for years, every touch and movement a reflection of what’s inside the other’s mind. Niall can read Harry like a book, and Harry can do the same with him. That isn’t why Niall doesn’t speak though. He’s afraid even a single word will break apart whatever spell they’re under that’s pushing to the back of their minds what a bad idea this is. He knows, he knows, that this is a train wreck waiting to happen. That doesn’t matter in the face of the possibility of having this moment with Harry.

Harry’s hand reaches over to Niall’s nightstand, and he opens up the drawer. He won’t find what he’s looking for. Niall doesn’t have anything like that in the flat. He’s not sleeping with anyone, so there’s no reason for it. Outside of the dreams he has of moments like this, Niall doesn’t even have the desire to get off anymore. Harry doesn’t let that stop him though. He just un-straddles Niall, placing the flat of his palm on the smaller man’s hip until Niall gets the idea and turns over.

He lets Harry position him until he’s up on his knees and elbows, head dropped down between has shoulders and arse out on display. It’s less intimate than sex has been between them for as long as Niall can remember, their eyes and hands unable to meet like this, but then again this isn’t really an intimate moment. He’s not even sure what it is honestly. He’s not sure if this is just pent-up sexual tension, or closure, or Harry just hate-fucking him. He doesn’t care. Niall’s willing to give anything and everything that Harry wants to take from him because, even if they’re not together anymore, even if Harry loathes him, he’s the love of Niall’s life.

The feeling of Harry’s tongue on him is familiar, welcome even, but completely unexpected. Niall lets a groan slip out, his fingers curling into the sheets because he has to grip onto something to keep himself from collapsing at how heavenly it feels. He feels Harry’s fingers nudging at his bottom lip where he’s reached forward between Niall’s legs, and takes three into his mouth instinctively. He knows what Harry wants, so he makes it wet, swirling his tongue around them the same way Harry is doing behind him. It’s sloppy and rough, but that’s kind of fitting, considering what they’re doing.

He takes his time slicking up Harry’s fingers, both because he wants to prolong this for as long as possible before the aftermath collides with them, and because, even without it having been a year without penetration for Niall, only using spit as lube would make this a bit on the painful side anyways. That doesn’t scare him though. Nothing could be more painful than what he’s already feeling every day.

The first prod from Harry’s finger is slow, dragging against his hole until he pushes in. Niall forces himself to relax, to have his body remember this feeling and invite Harry rather than resist him. He’s not twenty three anymore though, and his body isn’t as forgiving as it once was. Harry has to take his time opening Niall up, giving shallow thrusts with his finger as he plants a trail of slow kisses up Niall’s back.

It fucking burns when Harry slips in a second finger after Niall indicates he’s ready with a roll of his hips. Harry’s gentle with it though, giving Niall time to accommodate and adjust before he does anything more. He flattens his hand over Niall’s chest in a silent reminder to breathe, to relax, so he can open up for Harry. It works miracles, the familiarity of the gesture finally bringing a sense of equilibrium to Niall’s body.

The third finger fits in easier than the last one had, the result of the careful, determined way that Harry is working him through it, just as much as Niall relaxing himself. Every touch from him ignites a flood of memories for Niall from a time when things were easier, when they were right. When the sheets beneath them were the carefully chosen silk ones they’d taken weeks to agree on, instead of these scratchy cotton things Niall had gotten on sale. When they didn’t need to speak, but had anyways because the sounds of each other’s voices were a comfort rather than a reason to stop. When they could laugh, or smile, or at least hold each other’s gaze without having to think about it. And Niall feels like crying, because this is all he wants, to have this moment and ignore everything else because it feels right having Harry with him again like this, but this isn’t right. In the core of himself, he knows that this is the wrong thing, that soon enough he’ll be left heartbroken just like he was a year ago.

Harry has to feel it too, has to know that this is wrong, but that doesn’t stop either of them. It doesn’t stop Harry from gently kissing over Niall’s skin, or Niall from prostrating himself, or the moans escaping through their lips at every single sensation that they give one another. They can’t stop, because they need this. For whatever reasons either of them may have, they just can’t stop. The after, the later, the end result - It’s too far away for them to care right now.

Harry pulls his fingers out slowly, brushing over Niall’s prostate and sending lightning up his spine that’s so intense that he has to bite down on a pillow just to keep himself from screaming. Harry makes a sound from the back of his throat, and then drops a thick glob of spit onto Niall’s hole. It should be disgusting, should make Niall cringe, but it isn’t, and it doesn’t. It’s all they have, and Niall is beyond fine with it.

Harry splays his clean hand over the base of Niall’s spine, a gentle pressure to tell Niall to lie down. He drops onto his stomach, legs pressed together in a tight line. Harry loves this position, loves having the entire weight of himself cloaking over Niall, loves the way he doesn’t have the leverage to pound in, so things end up lasting for ages, loves the way he can make Niall cum when his cock is trapped between his stomach and the sheets, leaving him no room to touch himself. Harry loves this position, but Niall loves it all the more for that.

From the second Harry’s head presses in, Niall knows that this time is going to hurt. He hasn’t had this in so long, and he’s not properly prepared, despite Harry’s slow and careful attempt. He feels like he’s tearing apart, like his body is splitting open. He won’t let it show though, won’t let out the sob trapped at the back of his throat, or the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. The pain is the first thing about this that Niall feels like he really deserves. It’s good. It’s right.

It’s a slow process fitting all of Harry inside of him, but they manage, and Niall breathes out a sigh of relief once Harry settles down on top of him, wrapping his arm around Niall’s chest to hold him close and lift him up a bit so his face isn’t buried in the mattress. “Jesus- So fucking tight.” Harry says breathlessly, the first words either of them have spoken since this started.

“I haven’t- Haven’t been with anyone else.” Niall chokes out.

Niall’s not sure if he imagines it when Harry mutters ‘Good.’, nor is he sure what that would even mean if it did really happen. What he is sure of is the way that Harry’s cock gives a throb, twitching where he’s buried himself inside of Niall. He’s still not sure what it means, but he doesn’t care really. He doesn’t know what to say, or if he should even speak again, so he keeps his mouth shut and gives a roll of his hips to tell Harry that he’s ready, even if he isn’t.

The fingers of Harry’s free hand slip through Niall’s before he does anything, and that’s what makes it okay. That’s what makes him relax enough to take the pain down to an acceptable level that fades over time. It even starts to feel good after a few minutes, and brilliant after a few more. Harry’s weight on top of him should be suffocating, but instead it’s comforting. His grip on Niall’s fingers is tight, but that just makes Niall feel like Harry doesn’t want to let him go. He knows how this plays out, how it ends, but right now, in this second, he’s Harry’s again, and Harry is his.

His lips are soft on Niall’s neck, leaving kisses that won’t mark, no matter how much Niall knows he’ll still feel them the next morning. His hips move in shallow thrusts, slow and steady, to keep either of them from spilling over the edge until they’re ready to let go. Niall never will be, but he knows well enough that this can’t last forever. He clenches around Harry as much as he can without it pushing things back over the line to painful, because as much as he needs this, he also needs it to end so he can see where this leaves them.

Harry doesn’t speed up though, doesn’t react to Niall tightening around him in any way except the slightest of gasps against Niall’s skin. Niall wants to hate him for it, for whatever part of Harry it is that needs to drag this out, but he knows he can’t. He’ll give Harry anything, no matter how much it breaks him. So he lets Harry take his time, doesn’t move an inch when Harry stops his thrusts to stave off orgasm for a little while longer. Nor does he try to keep things going when Harry has to stop a second time, or a third.

Time is passing by relentlessly, speeding them towards the inevitable, and Niall knows he won’t last much longer. His body is going to give out eventually, and Harry seems to sense that at the same moment Niall does. The hand he has around Niall’s chest snakes up, turning his jaw until their lips meet. Harry’s cock pushes into him harder, finally chasing after what he’s been denying the both of them.

Niall’s orgasm barrels into him, a searing heat that explodes underneath his skin, leaving him glowing as he gasps against Harry’s lips. “Fuck! Haz!”

Harry changes the position of his knees, giving himself enough leverage to properly fuck into Niall while he swallows every sound that rips itself free from Niall’s throat. It feels good, even with the pain and the sensitivity that are threatening to tear Niall in two. Niall is trembling under Harry’s touch, but Harry just keeps at it, slamming into Niall while he devours him alive. And it’s so painful, but it’s the best feeling in the world. The tears spilling down Niall’s cheeks could be from pain, or sadness, or joy, but it’s the combination of everything that has him quaking like a leaf.

Harry cums silently, burying himself until there’s no space between his body and Niall’s, surrounding him until they’re just one person again. Then all at once he’s gone, his weight, and his lips, and his cock are all torn free from Niall in an instant. He’s already out of the bed before Niall can even process that he’s gone. His clothes are in his hand, the other one trying to tug on his pants while he adamantly stares at the door and not at Niall. “Harry, what-” Niall starts, flipping onto his back to sit up.

“Don’t.” Harry bites out. “Have Noah home by nine in the morning.”

“Harry, wait-” Niall tries again, but the pain, no longer dulled by pleasure, keeps him from thinking clearly, from moving even a little bit.

“I said don’t, Niall.” Harry mutters, throwing the door open and then closing it behind him when he leaves.

It’s not until Niall hears the front door click shut that he lets loose the sob from the back of his throat, falling to his side and clutching tight to his filthy sheets while he screams into his pillow to muffle the sounds of his heart breaking into a billion pieces all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

“Have a safe trip.” The words echo through Niall’s mind countless times from where he’s curled up in the back of the cab, his arms locked around his knees to keep himself from falling apart at the seams on the lonely ride back home. They’re the only thing Harry said to him when he dropped Noah off, his voice cold and unforgiving when he closed the door before Niall could speak. Niall wants to scream, wants to cry, wants to rail against the world, but he has no one to blame other than himself. He let Harry do this to him, and he knows in the back of his mind that he’d do it all over again.

He hasn’t cried, has barely spoken, since he allowed himself only ten minutes after Harry left to feel everything, before he forced it all down and made himself numb. It’s the only way he’ll survive this, the only way he can make it through. He had to fake feeling anything at all when Noah came crawling into his bed, complaining of a nightmare, after Niall had forced himself to change his sheets and to shower and to clean his room, mindless things to keep himself from giving in to the pain coursing through his veins. He wanted to enjoy it, to love having his son close to him all night, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t open up even a little bit, or every ounce of what he was feeling would crash through the floodgates.

He was in no condition to drive, so after he and Noah had spent all morning discussing why Niall had to go on this trip and leave him behind for a little while, but promising that they’d video chat any time that Niall could find a free minute, he’d called for a taxi. He’s grateful for it now, because he knows that he’s even worse off now than he was before. The cabbie keeps glancing at him in the mirror, his eyes worried even though he’s never met Niall before, and never will again. Niall idly wonders if this had shown on his face before, if Noah had picked up on it.

He didn’t though. He couldn’t have. Noah is perceptive, but he’s also too young to have any tact. If he thought Niall was upset, he would have said something. Or he would have assumed it was about Niall’s trip. He can’t possibly have known or understood any of what happened. Niall thanks god for that. He has so little to be thankful for, but his son’s innocence is definitely first on the list.

“We’re here sir.” the cabbie says quietly, dragging Niall out of his thoughts.

“Thanks.” Niall mutters, passing up a wad of notes before climbing out of the taxi and heading into the hospital.

He pulls the collar of his jumper up, hiding the bite-mark he feels as a scorching reminder of last night’s mistake every time he moves. He knows that it isn’t visible, that the fabric is keeping the bruise from showing, but he still feels like he needs to hide it. He feels dirty for even having it.

“Okay- Seriously, what the fuck?” Niall sighs when he walks into his office.

“You didn’t honestly think I was going to leave you alone after yesterday.” Zayn scoffs, that annoying smirk fixed in place where he’s kicked back in Niall’s chair.

“I’m fine, Zayn.” Niall tells him, knocking his feet off the desk. “Go home to your husband before we leave tomorrow. I told you I’d take care of all of the preparations here.”

“Oh, Leeyum is here too.” Zayn hums. “He’s just as curi- concerned - as I am. He’s getting us coffee.”

“Don’t push me today, Zee.” Niall growls. “I’m in no mood for it. I’m still chief resident for the next twenty four hours, which means I can still formally reprimand you.”

“Oh, I’m quaking in my boots.” Zayn laughs. “I’ve already been accepted for my fellowship, same as you. I don’t have to worry about a slap on the wrist from you, just because you’re grumpy as shit. You also can’t reprimand me without a reason, and talking to you isn’t a reason.”

“Just- Just please go away, Zayn.” Niall whispers, dropping onto the couch and folding his arms back around his knees to hug them to his chest in a mirror image of what he’d done in the cab. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected Zayn to be here, wanting to know what happened with Harry. It’s next to impossible to hide anything from Zayn, and Niall isn’t at his best right now. He can’t tell Zayn about last night, not yet. Not until he’s ready to talk about it on his own terms. “Don’t do this to me right now.”

“Nialler-” Zayn says softly, his voice losing all the humor that it had had previously. “What hap-”

“Please, Zee.” Niall begs, lifting his head up to look at Zayn through watery eyes. “Please, please, please - Don’t push this. Just leave me alone.”

“We will.” Liam says firmly from the doorway. He’s Niall’s savior for showing up just when he’s needed most. “Ni, I’m sorry. We didn’t realize how much it would affect you being around Harry for so long yesterday. If you need time and space to process, then of course we’ll give that to you. But only if you’re sure that it’s what you need. If you want one, or both, of us to stick around, even if it’s just so that you aren’t alone, we can do that too.”

“No.” Niall says with a grateful smile. “Just go spend the day together. We’re leaving in the morning, and you two should have as much time together as you can get before that. Don’t worry about me.”

“We’re going to worry about you.” Liam tells him, crouching down to plant a kiss on Niall’s forehead. “But if you need space that’s okay. You’ve been through so much this year, and you need to deal with it the best way that you can.”

“The last time we left him to deal with it himself-” Zayn starts to argue.

“Don’t you dare bring that up!” Niall snarls, cutting him off before he can mention that day. “This isn’t the same!”

“How do I know that for sure?” Zayn asks harshly. “Nialler, I can’t- We can’t- go through that again. Finding you like that- It nearly killed me.”

“This isn’t the same, Zayn.” Niall repeats icily. “Now go. Just go the fuck away.”

“Nialler-” Zayn sighs.

“Go!” Niall bellows.

“There’s no point pushing this, Zayn.” Liam cuts in, standing between them. “We have to trust him. You know that. Niall is the only one who can decide what’s best for himself.”

“Fine.” Zayn spits, storming out of the office with a hard glare at Niall before he goes.

“I need to know I didn’t just stick my neck out for you to drop an axe on it, Niall.” Liam says quietly.

“It won’t happen again, Li. I promise.” Niall insists. “You know that I won’t let that happen again. I can’t. I can’t allow myself to let Noah down like that again. I can’t let him ever know that happened. I can’t let Harry know that that happened, or he’ll take Noah away forever.”

“As long as you don’t slip, then your secret is safe, Niall.” Liam tells him. “I’m going to go now. We’ll see you tomorrow morning. Call me if you need anything. Literally anything. Even if you just need someone to sit with you and not say anything at all.”

“Thanks, Li.” Niall mumbles, withdrawing into himself until Liam closes the door behind him.

 

_“I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” Niall groans, twisting the band on his wrist that identifies him as a seventy-two hour psychiatric hold. “I just wanted to sleep.”_

_“Will you tell me your name?” the psychiatrist asks calmly._

_“No.” Niall huffs. “I have too much riding on me to let this be a matter of record. I could lose my career and my son if this gets out. My friend assured me that, as long as I’m found to be psychologically sound, then nobody has to know about this.”_

_“Psychologically sound people don’t swallow half of a bottle of pills.” she counters. “Not even if they want to sleep.”_

_“Five days.” Niall mutters. “I went five days straight without so much as a minute of sleep. I wasn’t in my right mind. I could barely think of anything at all. I couldn’t remember how many I had already taken. All I knew was that they hadn’t worked, and I needed more. I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I just wanted to sleep.”_

_“That may be true, but I need to be sure of that before I can let you out of here.” she sighs. “Your friend says that you’re a surgeon. If that’s correct, then letting you out of here could have disastrous consequences for your patients. Sleep deprivation causes people to make mistakes more frequently. I think we should start by finding the root of that before we move on to whether or not your almost dying of an overdose was intentional or not. Have there been any major changes in your life lately?”_

_“He told you that I’m a surgeon, but he didn’t tell you that I’m going through a divorce?” Niall scoffs. “Leave it to Zayn. My husband left me and took our son, he’s suing me for full custody, and I’ve just gotten back from two months spent with Doctors without Borders in Syria. So yeah, you could say things have changed a bit.”_

_“Syria?” she asks, obviously taken aback. “It’s very volatile there right now.”_

_“I’m aware.” Niall says flatly._

_“Did you experience anything traumatic while overseas?” she asks. God, did they give him a fucking intern or something? She’s indelicate, and completely without observational skills. She’ll never fucking last in this field. That’s good though. She’ll be easier to convince that Niall wasn’t trying to kill himself than a full-fledged psychologist, who would have noted by now that, as a surgeon, Niall should know better than to let himself lose track of his pill intake. He should have written a note, or kept them in individual containers._

_“I spent most of my time in a field tent stitching people back together.” Niall informs her. “It wasn’t much different than what I do here, other than that the conditions were worse to work in and there were a lot of people who’d been caught in explosions or firefights. So no, no significant traumas. I’m not saying it didn’t get to me sometimes, that I wasn’t scared, or that I didn’t sympathize with the people I helped. I just had to keep a level head to be of any use to the people who needed help.”_

_“And is keeping a level head something you consider yourself good at?” she questions, jotting down notes in her pad._

_“I excel at it.” Niall chuckles._

_“And yet, you let yourself go five days without sleep where you could have made any number of mistakes that left people in critical condition or worse.” she counters. “Either you’re not as good as you think you are, or your decision making skills have become compromised due to any number of possible causes. Or, and I believe this is the most probable case, you’ve begun to suffer from depression as a result of the troubles your life is going through at the moment. We’ll discuss that tomorrow. For now I’ll leave you with an attendant.”_

_“You really think you can settle this in forty-eight hours?” Niall scoffs._

_“No, Doctor, I don’t.” she says simply, standing up and making her way towards the door. “I think that you will require a much longer stay here than seventy two hours. And, unless you start cooperating, that’s the recommendation I’m going to make. I’m leaving now, even though I don’t have to, because it’s obvious you aren’t going to be of any help to yourself unless I put some pressure on you. Limiting the time that you have to start cooperating with me before I have you declared mentally incompetent and keep you here on a more permanent basis seems like a good start.”_

_“My name is Niall.” he says quietly. She makes no move to acknowledge his words, walking out and leaving anyways. Niall just curls up on his side and waits to fall asleep._

“You’re going to have to speak to me eventually, Nialler.” Zayn sighs. Niall begs to differ. He made it from Heathrow to JFK without saying a word to Zayn, and then did it all over again on the flight from JFK to Miami International, regardless of the fact that the two were sat right next to each other on both flights. “We’re sharing a room, not only for tonight, but for the entire time we’re in Haiti.”

Niall says nothing, doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard or cares about what Zayn said. He just scrolls through his emails on his tablet, and responds to the ones that need it. Zayn has never been one to be ignored though, and eventually gets fed up with Niall’s unwavering silence. He tears the tablet out of Niall’s hands, dropping it on the ground and straddling over his torso to trap his arms in place. “You are going to fucking talk to me, Niall.” Zayn growls.

“Fuck you.” Niall spits out, struggling against Zayn’s thighs. He’s weak though. He hasn’t eaten since that one slice of pizza he’d had with Noah and Harry two nights ago, and he’s barely slept on top of it. Zayn, on the other hand, has been on a bit of a workout kick for the last few years with Liam, so he’s rather fit, and keeps Niall pinned easily.

“Not the best start, but at least it’s something.” Zayn smirks. “You need to talk, Nialler. Remember what happened the last time you bottled everything up?”

“I told you that this isn’t the same thing, Zayn!” Niall snaps.

“I can’t take that chance.” Zayn says harshly. “Liam may trust you, but I don’t. You haven’t earned that back from me.”

“I don’t care.” Niall mutters.

“You fucking should!” Zayn spits out. “You used me, Niall. You used me to attempt suicide. It was my name on that fucking prescription. You told me you needed it to sleep.”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to say that I wanted to die?” Niall screams, lurching forward with every bit of his strength when Zayn weakens his grip in surprise of Niall acknowledging it. He hasn’t admitted it since he was in the hospital to anyone except the therapist he saw for a few months. Zayn knows the truth, as does Liam, but Niall doesn’t speak about it as a rule.

Zayn falls backwards onto the floor, glaring up at Niall. “You were supposed to talk to me if you felt that way, Niall.” he says firmly. “You were supposed to remember that more people than just your family love you. You needed help, and I would have given anything to help you, but instead you took advantage of that to get me sign your death warrant. You didn’t give a shit about how that would affect my career, or how losing you would have broken so many people, me more than almost any of them.”

“I was already dying!” Niall yells. “I couldn’t breathe without them! I just wanted it to stop hurting so goddamned much just being awake! I wanted it all to end!”

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” Zayn asks, his voice dropping down to a whisper.

“Because talking wouldn’t have solved anything, Zayn.” Niall sighs, dropping back against the headboard. “Not with you. You know I love you, but I just couldn’t talk to you. I needed someone who didn’t know me, who wouldn’t just tell me what I wanted to hear, and that’s never been you. You love me too much to take me to the place that I needed to go to in order to come to terms with losing Harry. I’ve put too much on you over the years we’ve known each other already. I couldn’t add all of this to the list.”

“I understand why you had to do that back then. I hate it, but I understand it. What I don’t understand is why you’re shutting me out now.” Zayn says softly.

“I need to process what happened before I can talk to you about it.” Niall shrugs.

“Will you answer one question then?” Zayn asks. “Why are you wearing a big heavy jumper while we’re in Florida? It’s hot as hell.”

“I- Um- I-” Niall stammers, his fingers tugging at the collar instinctively, pulling it up a little higher. Zayn’s eyes catch it, and Niall knows he’s fucked.

“Niall, what are you hiding?” Zayn asks.

“It’s nothing.” Niall mutters.

“Do not make me climb back up there and pull it off of you. What are you hiding, Nialler?” Zayn asks again. Niall sighs and pulls the jumper off over his head. He hates to admit it, but he’s a little relieved. Zayn was right. It’s hot as hell. Zayn jumps to his feet and skims his finger over the purpled skin. “Did- Did you shag someone?”

“Kind of.” Niall admits sheepishly.

“Oh, Niall.” Zayn whispers. “No. No- Tell me it wasn’t-”

“It was.” Niall nods.

“What the hell, Niall?” Zayn groans. “You were doing so good. You were getting better. Not a lot, but you were getting better.”

“It all happened so fast.” Niall mumbles. “We were arguing about Noah, and then we were fucking. This is why I didn’t want to talk to you about it. I’m not sure what happened, or why, or if it even means anything. I need to figure that out before you yell at me for having sex with my husband.”

“He’s not your husband anymore, Niall.” Zayn argues.

“He is until I sign the paperwork.” Niall says quietly, the fingers of his right hand instinctively stroking over the ring on his left he hasn’t been able to take off permanently.

“Did you at least talk to him about it?” Zayn asks.

“I didn’t have a chance.” Niall admits. “He uh- He kind of left literally the second that he was done, and then he wouldn’t talk to me when I dropped Noah off.”

“Yeah, I can totally see why you don’t want to sign the paperwork.” Zayn scoffs, sitting back on his own bed.

“I love him, Zee.” Niall whispers. “I’ve never stopped loving him.”

“I know.” Zayn sighs, falling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. “We never should have gone to Syria.”

“I had to, Zayn.” Niall murmurs. “You know why I had to go.”

“I know, and it’s why I’ve covered for you for this long, and said that it was my idea.” Zayn tells him. “But maybe it’s time you told Harry the truth.”

“What would it change?” Niall asks him. “Would it make any sort of difference now? Would he love me again if I told him that it scared me so badly that I fled to another continent when he said that he wanted another kid?”

“He might understand that better than you going because I asked you to.” Zayn counters. “I’m fully willing to keep this lie up if you need me to, but, Niall, if you want to be with him then you have to do something about it.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Zayn. It matters what he does, and I’m not it anymore.” Niall shrugs, scooting back and pulling the duvet over himself. “We have an early flight. I’m going to sleep now. Good night, Zayn.”

“Good night, Nialler.” Zayn mumbles, plunging the room into darkness by turning out the lamp.


	4. Chapter 4

Haiti is devastating. It hits Niall just as hard as, if not harder than, Syria did. It’s been three weeks since the hurricane, but there are still hundreds of people to see them at the tiny clinic each day. Surgery is rare for that, generally having been far too late to be of any good after the event. Still, they set broken bones, suture wounds, and prescribe medication with as much care as they can.

On Niall’s third day there, a village school collapses after one of the pylons holding up the roof couldn’t take the pressure from when it cracked during the hurricane, and, though most of the people inside escaped with minor bumps and bruises, Niall has to amputate the left arm and leg of a little girl who had lost both of her parents only weeks before.

“Nialler?” Zayn asks that night. “What’s wrong mate?”

“She’s eight years old, Zee.” Niall mutters. “She’s eight years old, with no family, and now I’ve taken half of her limbs. What kind of life is she going to have? Did I even do the right thing by saving her, or would it have been kinder to let her go before she starves to death?”

“She’s been put into the IBESR, Nialler. She’ll be taken care of.” Zayn says quietly, sitting on the edge of Niall’s bed.

“There are over a million orphans in this country, Zayn.” Niall sighs. “They can’t give her all the help she needs. She’ll need new prosthetics every few months for years, and physical therapy on top of regular therapy to deal with all the trauma. If – if - she ever recovers, there’s still a good chance that she’ll never get a good enough job to support herself unless she finds someone else to live with early on. Haiti suffers from extreme poverty, so the likelihood that she’ll turn to prostitution is high, and, even then, she’ll have difficulty due to the prosthetics. Did you know that approximately one-point-eight percent of Haitians are living with HIV or AIDS?”

“Niall, you’ve taken her from an eight year old girl to a sex worker with an incurable disease in under a minute.” Zayn says softly. “You don’t know what’s going to happen to her. Nobody does. You’ve given her a shot at life. That’s all we can do sometimes.”

“Why?” Niall chokes out. “Why can’t- Why does it even matter what we do? I saved her life, but at what cost? What kind of lives are the people we save going to have?”

“They’re going to have lives with a chance.” Zayn says adamantly. “Niall, you and I both know that we’re doing everything we can to help. Maybe you should talk to one of the DWB psychologists. They’re here to help the victims, but that doesn’t mean they can’t help you too. I don’t want you slipping again.”

“I can’t.” Niall shakes his head. “I can’t take time away from people with real problems to talk to a therapist about my own stupid shite.”

“Problems are problems, Nialler.” Zayn murmurs. “Yours may not be as traumatic as having a school building fall on top of you, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t matter. I’m always here to talk, but I think you need someone else for this sort of thing. I sucked in our psychology module. You know that.”

“You did not.” Niall scoffs. “But maybe you’re right about me needing to talk to someone else about this. About Harry too.”

“No, you should definitely talk to me about Harry.” Zayn huffs. “I still want to know what happened there.”

“I can’t, Zee. Not with you.” Niall mutters. “You’ve always been hard on him. Well past the point of him deserving it.”

“I disagree.” Zayn grumbles. “Obviously he deserves it. Anyone who could do to you what he’s done, they deserve it.”

“I brought everything on myself, Zee.” Niall whispers. “I destroyed my marriage. Not Harry. He just reacted to the mess I created.”

 

_Niall isn’t surprised that Harry didn’t even offer to pick him up from the airport. They’ve barely spoken since he’s been gone. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have run instead of just talking the issue out. He should have just said that he wasn’t ready for another child, and wasn’t sure he ever would be again. He loves Noah with every fiber of his being, but the idea of going through everything they had to get him all over again makes Niall’s stomach heave._

_The drive home from Heathrow is lonely, but Niall is used to that. He spends so much time in his own little world already that this sort of thing has become normal for him. What he isn’t used to is walking into his house and finding it empty. He takes a moment to breathe, searching through each of the rooms in turn until he knows that the house is devoid of anyone else. That’s when he begins to panic. There’s no note, no nothing, but a portion of Harry’s closet is empty, and a large chunk of Noah’s clothes and toys are missing as well._

_Harry doesn’t answer the first call, or the second, or the tenth. That’s when Niall really starts to become terrified. He tries Liam, but he doesn’t know anything about it. Then, finally, Gemma answers the phone and says, “He’s not ready to talk to you, Niall.”_

_“Just- Just tell him to come home. Please, Gems. I need to know that he’s alright. That my son is alright.” Niall begs._

_“Of course they’re not alright.” Gemma snaps. “You left them for two months. You left your family behind to go play hero in the desert with your ex. Who the hell would be alright?”_

_“Gemma, please.” Niall whimpers._

_“They’re staying with me and Olli at a cabin up north, Niall.” Gemma sighs. “When he’s ready to talk to you, he will. Don’t call again.”_

_Niall doesn’t listen of course, leaving dozens of messages pleading with Harry to come home and bring their son back. He doesn’t get a response. He doesn’t get a single word from Harry for three days until he comes home from work and finds Harry sitting in the living room with several suitcases. He’s been crying, and Niall knows it from the stains on his cheeks._

_He doesn’t look at Niall, doesn’t raise his voice or hold out his arms, just calmly says, “I want a divorce.”_

_“Haz, please. We can-” Niall starts._

_“This isn’t up for debate anymore, Niall.” Harry says. His face is adamant, but his voice is broken. “You left. You left when I begged you not to go. You abandoned me, you abandoned our son, and I’m done with it. I’m done waiting around, and being taken for granted by my own husband.”_

_“I- I don’t-” Niall stammers._

_“You do!” Harry snaps. “You take me and Noah for granted. I told you before you left, that if you got on that plane, we may not be here waiting for you. You thought it was an empty threat, but it fucking wasn’t, Niall. I’m done with your family being second place behind medicine. I’m done never fucking factoring in to any decision for you. I want a divorce.”_

_“So you don’t even want to try and fix this?” Niall growls._

_“I’ve been trying to fix it for ages, Niall. I’ve been planning trips that we never get to take because you refuse to go away for more than a day, dates you don’t show up to, evenings together that you avoid. I told you that I wanted to try couples counseling, and you told me you didn’t have time for that.” Harry spits out. “I have been trying to fix this, and you didn’t even see that there was anything wrong.”_

_“I have a demanding career, Harry!” Niall groans. “You knew I would when you married me.”_

_“Oh my god - I don’t care!” Harry shouts. “You use your job as a fucking shield, acting like it gives you a free pass to completely ignore all the problems in our relationship. I know that you want to help people, that you were born for it, but that doesn’t mean that you get to neglect your family completely.”_

_“I’m not bloody Superman, Haz!” Niall shouts. “It’s only for two more years, and then I’ll be done with my residency and my fellowship, and things will calm down. I know that’s a lot, but I did it for you, waiting for you to leave the bloody club.”_

_“It’s already been five years of this, Niall.” Harry counters. “I can’t take two more. I honestly thought that I could, but that was before I realized that nothing I feel matters to you anymore.”_

_“Of course it matters, Harry.” Niall says softly, walking over and crouching down in front of his husband. “I’m- I’m sorry about this trip. I know that I hurt you when I left, but you have to give me a chance to make it up to you.”_

_“You’ve run out of chances with me, Niall. This was just the last straw.” Harry whispers. “I’ve been giving you a new chance every day for years to realize how much this has been killing me, how much it’s destroyed our family, but you never did. You never noticed until I was gone.”_

_“Haz-” Niall sighs._

_“Don’t.” Harry says quietly. “Just don’t, Niall. You’ve never fought for us before, and I wouldn’t believe it if you tried now. Just- Just let me go. It shouldn’t be that hard. You’ve been doing it for years. I’ve made up my mind about this. We’re not a couple anymore, and we haven’t been for a long time. Now I just want it to be official so I can move on. I’ve packed your things. My solicitor will contact you by the end of the week to talk about how things are going to proceed.”_

_“You’re really ending this?” Niall asks, biting back a flood of tears. “You’re really just throwing this away?”_

_“I’m doing what I can to survive, Niall.” Harry mutters, standing up and walking towards the entrance. “I’ll give you a few days to find another place while Noah and I stay up north, but I want you gone when I get back at the end of the week.”_

_“I’m leaving now.” Niall mutters, grabbing the bags that Harry’s packed for him and pushing past him out the door. “Come back whenever you fucking want. I won’t be here.”_

“Bressie?” Niall gasps, walking into one of the offices at the clinic where the Doctors without Borders therapists work.

“Niall?” the other man asks. “Niall Horan? What are you doing here?”

“Same as you.” Niall shrugs. “Trying to help people. I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t even know you were a doctor.”

“I was a student advisor for a reason.” Bressie chuckles. “I was in a bad place at the time I was with the program, had my license suspended for a bit, but yeah, I’m a doctor. Therapist anyways.”

“I suppose that counts.” Niall grins.

“Did you need some help with a patient?” Bressie asks.

“No. Actually- I- I uh-” Niall stammers. “I was hoping I could find someone to talk to. For, um- For myself.”

“Of course.” Bressie nods. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t this a conflict of interest?” Niall questions, his mind flashing back to that night nearly a decade ago when they’d shagged on every surface of Bressie’s flat. “We’ve um- Well, you know.”

“I think that it’s fine Niall.” Bressie laughs, his voice teasing when he adds “Unless you’re here to talk about that specifically, in which case I think you might need to see someone well beyond my talents. It’s been ten years Niall. I know I’m pretty great, but it’s time to move on.”

“Someone’s awful full of himself.” Niall snorts. “That was hardly life-altering on my end. Decent, but not like, earth-shattering.”

“Oh thanks.” Bressie scoffs. “Anyways, if you’d rather not do this formally, we could just get lunch or something. You can talk, and I’ll listen. We don’t have to make it an official session if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of that. It can just be us catching up until you’re ready to open up about whatever you were here to talk about.”

“I, uh- I’d like that actually.” Niall admits. “I was a bit nervous about it. I saw someone a while back, and it always felt so-”

“Clinical?” Bressie guesses.

“No. More like she had expectations, and I felt guilty if I didn’t meet them.” Niall explains. “I’m not the best at opening up, and that made therapy difficult.”

“I understand.” Bressie nods. “Well I have a little time now if you want to go get lunch. It’s only about a half an hour, but I have a feeling that’ll be enough to start off with.”

 

“You’ve sure been spending a lot of time with Bressie.” Zayn chuckles, nudging Niall with his shoulder as they scrub in.

“We’ve got a teenager in there with a crush injury on his spine, Zayn.” Niall huffs. “Can we maybe save this for later?”

“Absolutely not.” Zayn smirks. “We always work best together when we keep up a conversation.”

“You’re the fucking worst.” Niall groans, stepping through the door and letting the nurse snap on his gloves. “Have I mentioned that lately?”

“You’re just grumpy because I picked up on you dating someone.” Zayn hums as another nurse fits his mask into place.

“We’re not dating!” Niall squawks indignantly. “We’re just talking! He’s helping me work through some stuff. Harry stuff. I’d hardly date someone I’ve been spilling my guts to about still being in love with my ex, now would I? Scalpel.”

The nurse hands him the instrument as Zayn slides up to the other side of the table. “Well you two certainly seem cozy together.” Zayn says, and even through the mask Niall can make out that stupid, smug grin of his. “You were all over him today when I saw you two. You don’t need to be ashamed of it, Niall. It’s good that you’re moving on.”

“I’m not moving on, Zee.” Niall mutters, squeezing the bottle of betadine over the patient’s back. “I’m just- I need someone to talk to about it, who isn’t going to be frustrated that I’m still in love with my husband. Someone who doesn’t act like I’m an idiot for wanting him back.”

“You are an idiot for wanting him back.” Zayn says flatly, taking his own scalpel and making the first incision. “He left you, Nialler. He took your son. He had sex with you, and then left you alone to pick up the pieces without a word.”

“Bressie thinks that Harry still loves me too.” Niall admits. “There’s- There’s something Harry said before everything went down that night. He said that I didn’t understand when he was talking about there being people back home who need me. He said that I never understand. That’s when he kissed me. And when I told him that I hadn’t been with anyone else, I swear he said ‘good’. I thought it was my imagination, but now I don’t think so.”

“That’s it?” Zayn scoffs. “That’s what you’re holding onto? Your historically possessive-as-hell ex said that it was good that you haven’t had sex with anyone while you’re still married, so that means he wants to get back together? Then why did he leave, Niall? Why didn’t he say a word to you other than ‘Don’t’?”

“Because he doesn’t trust me anymore?” Niall guesses.

“He used you, Niall. Accept that.” Zayn sighs. “Harry would have said something by now if he was going to take you back. He’s not, and you can’t keep holding onto this hope that he will.”

“Fuck you.” Niall spits out. “Just do your fucking job, and stop talking to me, Doctor Payne.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Styles.” Zayn counters, his tone venomous.

 

“Catch another ambulance.” Niall growls, blocking Zayn’s entry into the one Niall is using.

“They don’t have another one to spare.” Zayn mutters. “We don’t have to talk, but we both need to go and you’re wasting time pulling this childish shite, Niall.”

“Whatever.” Niall huffs, taking the seat as far back as he can get so as not to be near Zayn. The ride is silent, taking them out to where an orphanage has been partially caved in, injuring dozens who’ll need to be stabilized on-site before they can be transported to a clinic. The majority of people are staying behind to prepare for the wounded, but both Niall and Zayn volunteered to go ahead of the rescue team to work as an impromptu triage team.

Niall bursts out of the doors as soon as they park, Zayn only steps behind him as they take in the scene. It’s mayhem, children and adults alike screaming in pain while pieces of debris drop down on them, kicking up clouds of dust. The building is holding for now, but it clearly isn’t going to last long, and there’s no rescue team there yet. Niall knows that he shouldn’t do it, that he should follow protocol and wait until the team gets there, and declares it stable, before going in. He doesn’t though. He plunges headfirst through the dust to get to the closest person.

Zayn is right alongside him, helping lift people out of danger before they head back in again and again. They don’t speak to each other, just murmur words of encouragement to the victims who probably can’t understand much anyways. Zayn is inside when they get there, and Niall thanks god for it.

It’s supposedly not uncommon, but Niall still can’t believe it when a jeep filled with four armed men pulls up. They raid orphanages, clinics, and pretty much anywhere else that has little security and the possibility of valuables. They’re vultures, come to pick apart the remnants of what little these people have to remember their lives by.

The second that they hop out, Niall places himself in their path. He doesn’t let his fear show when they level their weapons at him. “There’s nothing here for you.” he shouts, throwing out his arms to the sides in a vain display to let them know they aren’t getting past him. “The collapse destroyed anything they might have. Leave them alone.”

The largest one steps forward, his voice deep and heavily-accented when he says, “Step aside and nobody gets hurt.”

“Leave your weapons, and I’ll give you what medicinal supplies we have in our bags and the ambulance. The painkillers will fetch you a good price.” Niall counters.

“You’re not giving orders here.” the leader says flatly, raising his gun as evidence to support his claim. “We’ll take what we came for. Any precious metals, technology, and the drugs.”

“Here.” Niall spits, tearing off his ring and throwing it at their feet. “That’s twenty four karat gold with a two karat diamond. It’s worth more than everything in this building combined. Take it, and the drugs, and leave.”

The man indicates with one hand for one of his men to retrieve the ring, shattering Niall’s heart when he realizes that it’s well and truly gone now. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d offered it up, hadn’t known how badly it would hurt to see it go, but he’s more than willing to let go of it, if it saves these people the grief that comes along with these raids. The real ring sits below the surface anyways, that thin line that he and Harry had gotten when they couldn’t get married yet because of the club. The ring is apparently not enough though. The man’s face doesn’t change, and he says, “Move.”

“Niall, do what he says.” Zayn calls behind him. “It’s not worth it. Just let them take what they want. Things don’t matter as long as nobody gets hurt.”

“They matter to the people who have nothing!” Niall yells, never taking his eyes off of the men in front of him.

“Last warning, Doctor.” the man threatens, aiming his gun at Niall’s chest. He can hear the sound of the rescue team sirens approaching. He just needs a little more time, and then the bandits will flee. “I don’t like the idea of shooting a doctor, but I will still do it.”

“No. You’re not getting past me.” Niall says firmly.

He hears it. He sees it. Objectively he feels it too. It’s like it’s happening to another person though. The muzzle flashes, and Niall’ chest explodes with heat and pressure. Zayn screams somewhere behind him, but Niall can’t make out the words when he looks down at his torso. There’s blood pouring down his side, and his hand is warm and wet. He knows what to do, but when he puts his hands to the wound everything starts to fade. He’s gone before he hits the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that I'll be putting up until I finish the fic. I'd say that I'm sorry to leave it there, but it's what the people asked for.


	5. Chapter 5

_“We need to make a new will.” Harry says, completely out of the blue one night while Niall is flipping through case studies._

_“What brought this on then?” Niall asks, setting his glasses aside and closing the file._

_“We have a son now.” Harry shrugs._

_“Yeah, and he’s almost three, Haz.” Niall chuckles. “What made you think of it now specifically?”_

_“Right now, everything I have goes to Gemma if we both die.” Harry mumbles. “I don’t- I don’t want to leave him without a safety net if something happens to us. I don’t like feeling like we aren’t protecting him.”_

_“We aren’t going anywhere, Haz.” Niall murmurs, opening up his arm for Harry to crawl into, which the brunet does with a soft smile. “We should remake the will, you’re right, but what has you thinking about our untimely demises?”_

_“Kind of tripped on the treadmill earlier.” Harry mumbles sheepishly. “Didn’t hurt myself too badly, but it scared me.”_

_“Ah.” Niall hums, dropping his file on the floor and moving to straddle over Harry’s lap. “Should have figured it was something like that. Well, off with this then.”_

_He tugs at the hem of Harry’s shirt until his husband giggles and takes it off. There’s a faint bruise on his shoulder, and a scrape on his chest from the fall. Nothing too serious, but Niall doesn’t like seeing the marks there regardless. He hates when Harry’s in pain. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to each, barely suppressing a grin at the way Harry shivers at the touches, small gasps escaping through his lips. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” Niall asks lightly._

_“Scraped my knees.” Harry giggles again._

_“Ah, well let me take care of those right away.” Niall muses, shifting until he’s on his stomach between Harry’s legs. He gently moves the fabric back from Harry’s right knee, softly pressing his lips against the angry red skin. He repeats the process on the left side, just as gentle, just as fleeting. “Anywhere else?” Niall muses._

_“Hurt my bum when I fell off.” Harry grins._

_“Oh, that’s very important. I should take a look at that right away.” Niall smirks. “I’m a doctor. I know these things.”_

_“Whatever you say, Doctor Styles.” Harry says through yet another fit of giggles. Niall hasn’t seen Harry like this in what feels like ages, giddy and excitable to the point where he doesn’t know whether to coo at how adorable his husband is, or fuck him through the mattress because of the way it riles Niall up. The brunet waits until Niall moves back, and then rolls over onto his stomach, wiggling his ass like he’s got an invisible tail that won’t stop wagging._

_“Settle down.” Niall murmurs, hooking his fingers under Harry’s shorts and sliding the fabric down slowly enough to make Harry whine for more. He’d thought Harry was joking, was just playing along, but, sure enough, there’s definitely a small bruise on each of his cheeks. Niall kisses over them gently, trying not to laugh at how Harry squirms and moans. “Do you need kisses anywhere else?”_

_“Everywhere.” Harry grins over his shoulder. Yeah, Niall is definitely okay with that course of treatment. It’s just what the doctor ordered._

 

He’s cold. He’s cold, and it feels like he’s floating. Everything is dark. Everything hurts. He tries to slip back to where he was, that painless place that had shielded him only a moment ago. There’s a noise, shrill and piercing, that keeps him trapped here though. His eyes open just a bit, and he groans at the burst of pain that blossoms behind the heavy lids at the bright lights.

“Niall?” a voice asks, and he looks to his side. There’s a familiar head of brown hair there, and blue eyes looking at him with what may be relief. He’s far too exhausted to try and read the emotions in his friend’s face.

“Louis?” Niall croaks. His voice feels like razorblades assaulting his throat. “Am I in Hell? When did you die? How did you die? I was shot. They shot me, Louis.”

“That is the third time you’ve asked me that, and it hasn’t been funny once.” Louis growls, reaching out a hand and pushing it through Niall’s fringe. “You’re not dead, Niall. You’re back in London. You were shot, yeah, but they managed to save you and get you back home to recover.”

“Zayn!” Niall gasps, his eyes widening as he searches for the darker lad. “What happened to Zayn?”

“He’s fine.” Louis sighs. “He knows better than to piss off four armed men, unlike you, you stupid twat. What the fuck were you thinking, Niall? You could have died. You would have died if Zayn hadn’t been there to save you when they took everything and left.”

“I wanted to save them.” Niall mumbles, his head throbbing as a few memories flood back in. Memories of the clinic, and of the helicopter ride to Miami, and the long and painful trip back to London on a US army plane. Memories of Zayn sobbing over him as he yelled at Niall for being ‘such a damn fool’. Memories of Louis crying by his bed before Niall slipped back into morphine-induced sleep.

“You’re an idiot.” Louis groans. “They just wanted things, Niall. You didn’t have to get shot to protect them. They left without hurting anyone else besides you.”

“I didn’t want to take the chance.” Niall admits, groping for the cup of water on the tray in front of him. “Are- Are the orphans alright?”

“Nobody died, according to Zayn.” Louis shrugs. “That’s not important right now, Niall. What’s important is this death-wish you seem to have. Zayn told me about the pills. Are you trying to die again? Is that what this was?”

“I just wanted to keep them from losing what little they had left, Louis.” Niall explains. “You- You haven’t seen it there. It’s- So many people have literally nothing. Those kids only had fragments of their lives to hold onto before the damn orphanage collapsed. Now they have nothing. I just wanted to save them from that pain.”

“Well you didn’t, Niall.” Louis says icily. “They still took everything they could find, and what did you accomplish? You nearly died. Zayn is a mess. And don’t even get me started on Noah.”

“Noah?” Niall asks weakly. “He’s- He’s seen me like this?”

“Of bloody course he’s seen you, Niall!” Louis groans. “Harry has brought him here every day since you arrived, so that he knows you’re still okay. We’ve all been here. Liam and Zayn have finally left for the first time in days to sleep in their own flat rather than on your shitty little hospital couch. Luke would be here too, but when you overheard me talking about it to him, you insisted he stay on tour. You don’t remember any of that?”

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I don’t remember much except little flashes. Nothing about Luke, or Harry, or Noah.”

“You’ve never been awake when Harry and Noah come by, so that’s hardly surprising.” Louis mumbles. “But you’ve been lucid before, or at least we thought you were.”

“Don’t do well with morphine.” Niall mutters, staring at the IV in his arm. “Same thing happened after my knee surgery, remember? I- I think I’m awake now though.”

“About bloody time.” Louis scoffs. “I’m tired of having you wake up seeing me and assuming that you’re in Hell. That’s fucking rude, Ni.”

“Have- Have my parents come?” Niall asks.

“They flew in late last night. Harry’s putting them up at his, so they should be in today. It’s still early. Like, six in the morning early.” Louis tells him, looking down at his watch.

“Why are you here then?” Niall asks.

“Because I’ve got to make sure that you don’t wake up alone.” Louis grumbles. “You haven’t handled it well the last couple times it’s happened. I should go find a doctor if you’re awake for real this time. They’ll need to talk to you. Again.”

“Sure.” Niall nods.

“I’ll be right back.” Louis tells him, dropping a peck on Niall’s cheek before walking out.

The doctors come in and explain everything to him, about how the bullet tore up his lung and shattered multiple ribs before exiting, how Zayn had to perform a lobectomy to salvage the lung, how malnutrition is causing him to heal slower, and how he shouldn’t be up and walking again for a little while. He’s lucky to be alive according to them, but Niall doesn’t agree.

He should have died. He should have saved everyone the trouble of keeping watch over him. He should have died, and let Noah think he was a hero, instead of surviving and being forced to admit that he isn’t anything more than a shell of a human being who can’t save anyone or anything. He’s not fucking lucky to be alive. He’s cursed.

 

“Niall James Horan!” comes a loud screech, pulling Niall out of the hazy, broken sleep he’d started to fall into after the doctors and Louis had left at his request. “What on Earth is the matter with you?”

“Mum?” Niall asks, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as his parents move to either side of his bed. “Da?”

“Quiet, Maura. Yelling at him isn’t going to do any good.” Bobby sighs. “He did a brave thing.”

“He did a stupid thing.” Maura counters, reaching down to clutch Niall’s hand. “Honestly, Niall, you know better. What could have possessed you to do something so reckless?”

“I’m sorry.” Niall mumbles, averting his eyes from her watery ones. “I was trying to help them. I just wanted to help them.”

“You stupid, stupid boy.” Maura murmurs, dropping a kiss on Niall’s forehead. “Don’t you know that I’d be lost if anything ever happened to you?”

“I’m sorry.” Niall repeats.

“Papa!” Noah cries from the door, running forward to squirm past Bobby and onto the side of Niall’s bed. “You’re awake!”

“Hey, Noh-Noh.” Niall chokes out, wrapping his arms around his son and holding him close, despite the burst of pain in his chest. “I’m so sorry about this, bubba. I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

“You’re okay?” Noah asks quietly.

“I am now.” Niall whispers, pressing a kiss into Noah’s fringe. “I’m okay now that you’re here.”

“Can we have a minute?” someone asks from the doorway, and Niall’s heart clenches at the familiar drawl.

“Of course.” Maura nods. “Noah, how about we go down to the cafeteria for some breakfast?”

“Okay.” Noah sighs. “But not long, okay? I want to stay with Papa.”

“Just a few minutes, Noah.” Harry tells him, giving Maura and Bobby a grateful look as they each take one of Noah’s hands and lead him out of the room. “Louis tells me that you’re really awake this time. That you weren’t before, but now you remember stuff, and you’ve been talking.”

“I am.” Niall says quietly, steeling himself for yet another berating session. It’ll be his third in only two hours. He deserves it though. He deserves every ounce of anger that everyone is directing at him. He should have just died, but now they’re stuck with him, and his stupid decisions, and his useless fucking self being above ground, rather than below it where he belongs.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, walking over and taking a seat in the chair that Louis had been occupying when Niall woke up.

“Like an idiot.” Niall mutters. He doesn’t know what else to say. Nobody except the doctors have asked him that yet, and they meant medically. He hasn’t had time to think about how he feels other than worthless.

“The doctor says you’ll need to spend a while in bed recovering.” Harry says softly. “I’ve set up the spare room for it.”

“Absolutely not.” Niall hisses.

“Niall-” Harry starts.

“No. I’m not staying with you, Harry.” Niall insists. “I’m not going to let my son see me like this for weeks. I’m going back to my own flat. Or I’ll stay with Liam and Zee.”

“You need round-the-clock care, Niall.” Harry sighs.

“Then I’ll hire a nurse.” Niall shrugs. “I’m not going to let you pity me, Harry. You’re not obligated to take care of me, even if I haven’t signed the papers yet.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” Harry grits out. “Just come home with me.”

“No!” Niall growls, ignoring the way his body screams in protest of every word, his newly shrunken lung barely filling. “It’s not my home anymore. You’ve made that perfectly clear. You don’t want anything to do with me and we both know it. Especially with what happened right before I left. If you’d gotten full custody then you wouldn’t even be here. I’m not having you resent me even more than you already do.”

“Niall, stop it.” Harry whispers. “Don’t- Don’t do this. Please, come back home and get better.”

“Just go, Harry. Tell Noah I’m sorry, and that I’ll see him when I’m done recovering.” Niall says icily. “I’ll have my solicitor drop off the signed paperwork by the end of the week so that you don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“Niall-” Harry starts again, but he’s cut off by a voice from the doorway.

“Hey.” Bressie says softly, drawing both pairs of eyes in the room and a shocked gasp from Niall.

“What are you doing here?” Niall asks him.

“My deployment ended two days ago, and I just got back this morning.” Bressie explains, stepping up to the foot of Niall’s bed with a gentle smile. “I had to come see you. I’d have left early and come back with you and Zayn, but I figured that you’d probably be the first person to tell me to finish up my deployment before coming back. You’d probably call me an idiot too, because that’s how you are. As soon as I got off of the plane, I called Zayn, and he told me where you were. Hi, I’m Doctor Niall Breslin. You can call me Bressie though, to avoid confusion. Are you a friend of Niall’s?”

“Bressie, this is Harry.” Niall says quietly.

“Oh- Oh!” Bressie says with a sheepish blush. “I um- I’ve heard a lot about you from our Niall here.”

“And now it makes sense!” Harry snarls. “This is why you’re suddenly so willing to sign the papers after fucking months of holding out. Fine. Do whatever you want. Good bye, Niall.”

He storms out the door before Niall can say anything to stop it, to tell Harry that it isn’t what he thinks. “What did I just mess up?” Bressie sighs.

“Nothing.” Niall grunts. “It’s better this way.”

“I thought you wanted him back.” Bressie says, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

“I do. What I don’t want is for him to have to deal with me though.” Niall mumbles, burying his face in his pillow. “I- I don’t deserve him, and I need to let him go. Even if he has the wrong idea, at least now he doesn’t feel obligated.”

“He’s still in love with you.” Bressie tells him, replacing Harry in the chair. “He wouldn’t have gotten that upset if he wasn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Niall chokes out. “I don’t- I don’t deserve that life. Can you go Bressie? I need to sleep.”

“I’m not going anywhere, but you can sleep if you need it.” Bressie murmurs, taking Niall’s hand in his own. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

“Tea?” Maura asks, holding up the pot to offer after she pours her own cup.

“Sure.” Niall shrugs.

“That’s enough of that.” Maura huffs. “It’s been a week of this, Niall. I’m tired of only getting one word out of you at a time.”

“You’re welcome to go home then, Mum.” Niall snaps. “I didn’t ask you to stay. I told you that I‘d hire a nurse.”

“What happened to my sweet boy?” Maura asks sadly. “You used to be so happy all the time.”

“I was fucking shot!” Niall groans. “My husband left me! I am officially divorced now! I have reasons to be upset, Mum. I’m not just sulking over a bad mark on a test. Look at my life and give me one reason, one good fucking reason, why I shouldn’t be allowed to be upset.”

“Don’t you talk to me like that. I’m still your mother, even if you are grown.” Maura says, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Sorry.” Niall sighs. “Fuck! Just- I’m sorry, Mum. I’m going crazy here. I shouldn’t be lying about. I should be working. I should be back-”

“You are absolutely not allowed to say ‘in Haiti’ or I’ll give you a smack so hard your ears will ring for a year.” Maura threatens. “You’re done with Doctors without Borders. Zayn talked them into giving you a disbarment from the program after your little stunt. They’re praising you as a hero publicly, but you aren’t allowed to re-enlist to help them again. You’re considered a risk to yourself and others.”

“Fuck!” Niall yells, grabbing a pillow to smother a scream. It’s short, leaves him breathless because he only has half of a lung on one side now. It’s not nearly enough to have vented his frustration, but it’s so fucking painful that Niall knows he can’t keep doing it.

“Dear, this is a good thing.” Maura murmurs. “You need to take care of yourself. You need to get your head on straight.”

“It’s all I had, Mum.” Niall sobs, unable to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks. “It’s the only thing I could be proud of myself for. I’ve fucked everything else up, but I had that.”

“That’s not true, Niall.” Maura says softly, taking a seat next to Niall and gathering him up in her arms. “Your son is healthy and smart. You’ve saved so many lives. You’re a brave man who stops at nothing to make the world a better place. You have a lot to be proud of.”

“Noah is Harry’s son.” Niall mutters. “I’m just the extra baggage. The fuck up father who’s never there for him. I’m- I’m going to give Harry full custody. Noah will be better off for it. I shouldn’t be a part of his life.”

He gets a harsh slap to the back of his head, knocking his vision blurry momentarily. “Oi! What the fuck Mum?” Niall huffs.

“Don’t you ever say that again, Niall.” Maura says with a stern expression. “That boy loves you with all of his heart, and he’d be crushed if he knew that you even thought about disappearing from his life.”

“Mum-” Niall sighs, only to be knocked about the head again.

“Niall, I can do this all day.” Maura grits out.

“I was shot you know!” Niall hisses.

“Not in the head.” Maura counters. “You are not giving up custody of my grandchild. It’s just not happening. I will chain you to this bed and keep you under lock and key until you come to your senses if that’s what it takes.”

“When are you leaving again?” Niall grumbles.

“Not until you’re fully recovered.” Maura says firmly.

“Cannot come soon enough.” Niall mutters, earning himself another harsh smack. He might have deserved that one.

 

“I am not signing off on you coming back to work after only four weeks of home recovery, Doctor Horan.” Chief Corden says firmly. “You should be recuperating.”

“I’m ready to come back.” Niall insists. “I can’t sit around all day doing nothing. I have to come back to work.”

“It’s not happening.” Corden says flatly.

“Then consider this my resignation.” Niall huffs. “There are over eighty other hospitals in the greater London area, and I’ve had offers.”

“I won’t give you a good reference.” Corden tells him.

“I’ve been in the papers as the ‘Hero of MSF’.” Niall scoffs. “I don’t need your reference. If I look now, then someone will hire me immediately. I’ll be in surgery by the end of the week.”

“Fine!” Corden groans. “Limited duty. No OR time until I’m sure you’re ready to handle it. But you can have free run of the A&E on one condition.”

“What?” Niall asks. Honestly it’s a better deal than he was expecting.

“You let me assign someone to supervise you.” Corden says, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.

“As long as they don’t get in my way, I don’t care.” Niall shrugs. “Have anyone in mind?”

“Someone already came to me and told me to prepare for the possibility that you would pull this.” Corden sighs. “I’ve discussed it at length with him, and he’s agreed to supervise you.”

“Who is it?” Niall asks.

“Doctor Payne, of course.” Corden smirks. “You can start on Monday.”

“You’re a dick, James.” Niall mutters.

“And you’re a stubborn fool, Niall.” Corden chuckles. “But I don’t want to lose someone of your talents, so I suppose we’ll just have to settle for this arrangement, won’t we?”

“Whatever.” Niall grumbles, heading towards the door.

“Niall, for what it’s worth, I may think you’re a fool, but I also envy the courage it took to do what you did. I don’t think many could have done the same in that position.” James tells him before he exits. “I’m proud of you.”

Niall doesn’t have it in him to tell the chief that there’s nothing to be proud of, that Niall didn’t accomplish anything and wishes he’d at least died so that he could have given something worthy of those people’s pain. He just gives a nod and steps out the door. Zayn is waiting on the other side, falling into step with Niall despite his obvious intent to ignore the other man. “So I take it you agreed then.” Zayn hums once they have to stop and wait for the lift.

“Didn’t know it would be you I was working for or I wouldn’t have.” Niall scowls.

“Yes you would have.” Zayn grins. “You would do anything to be back here, and we both know it.”

“At least it’s going to get my mum out of my flat.” Niall sighs.

“About that, I’ve talked with Bressie and he’ll be staying with you for a while.” Zayn smirks.

“No he will not!” Niall grits out.

“Yes he will.” Zayn says firmly. “It’s one of the conditions of your continued employment.”

“Corden-” Niall starts.

“Gave me free reign to set whatever limits I want on you. He may let you get away with whatever you want, but I’m not going to. You either follow the rules I set, or I will recommend that you be fired and you will be.” Zayn tells him. “Now you can have Bressie live with you, or you can stay with me and Leeyum. You need someone at home to keep an eye on you, for your mental health as much as your physical health, and that’s that.”

“Fine. But if this is you trying to set us up, I will put a scalpel in your eye.” Niall threatens. “Anything else I should know about?”

“You’re limited to fifty hours a week, and, regardless of whether or not one of your cases becomes emergent, you won’t be going into surgery.” Zayn explains. “And if you keep being such a twat, I’ll make you wear those awful olive green scrubs.”

“I fucking hate you so much.” Niall groans, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Well, you almost bled to death in my arms, so I don’t care.” Zayn says softly. “I don’t want you pushing yourself too far anymore. You’ve only got half of a lung left on your right side, Niall. It’s time to take your health seriously. We shouldn’t even be letting you come back to work, but we all know that you’re going to find a way so at least this way you have people looking out for you.”

“I don’t need to have a babysitter, Zayn.” Niall huffs.

“Clearly you do.” Zayn scoffs. “You’ve been pulling one stupid stunt after another since Harry asked you for another child. You’ve taken it too far, too many times, for me to let you keep going without someone watching you.”

“Why?” Niall whispers. “Why didn’t you just let me die if I’m such a fucking burden on everyone?”

“Because you’ve saved me more times than I can count, and now I’m going to save you, no matter how hard you fight me.” Zayn says adamantly. “I’m going to bring you back from this darkness you’re living in and remind you that you’re the light in so many people’s lives.”

“That’s not me anymore, Zayn.” Niall mutters, stepping off the lift when it stops. “That version of me died a year ago, with that fistful of pills, and he isn’t coming back.”

 

“How was work?” Bressie asks, setting down a bowl of beef stew. It’s not quite as good as Harry’s or Maura’s, nothing either of them makes is, but Niall did miss having a home-cooked meal daily. Having Bressie around has made things easier, though Niall is loath to admit it. He doesn’t nag like Niall’s mum, and having someone treat him like a normal person is refreshing with Zayn hovering around him all day long, stealing his patients when they need surgery, and otherwise undermining Niall at every turn.

“It was fine.” Niall shrugs, tearing a roll in half and sopping up some of the soup before shoving it in his mouth. “Had to take a break when it got a bit hard to breathe at one point. Fucking A&E gets so fucking claustrophobic sometimes.”

“Any good cases?” Bressie questions. Niall can tell he’s itching to delve deeper into the problem, to remind Niall that he’s recovering, and that he shouldn’t be anywhere near sick people with his immune system still bouncing back. He doesn’t though. He just gives Niall a safe space to talk without being bombarded by a constant flood of pity and concern.

“Pulled one of those twisty, energy saver bulbs out of a lad’s arse.” Niall chuckles. “Fucking kids these days.”

“Trust me, that’s not a recent trend. You would not believe the things I’ve pulled out of people’s bums.” Bressie grins. Niall looks at him curiously, and he continues. “Wasn’t always a therapist. Originally I trained as a surgical resident just like you. But – But I was married, and I realized I spent too much time working, and not enough time at home with my wife, so I switched specialties. Took a couple years, but we were happier for it until I cocked things up.”

“With me?” Niall asks quietly.

“If it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else.” Bressie tells him. “It wasn’t your fault, Niall, and I’ve never blamed you for it. I was exploring a part of myself that I’d kept trapped for a long time, and the consequences of that are my own cross to bear. It helped me come to terms with things that I wasn’t ready to face before, so, really, I should be thanking you.”

“For ruining your marriage?” Niall scoffs.

“For showing me that there wasn’t only one certain way I had to live my life. My ex and I weren’t right together. We wouldn’t have made each other happy.” Bressie shrugs.

“I wouldn’t have gone home with you if I knew you were married.” Niall mutters, staring down into his stew. “Can’t believe I’ve wrecked two marriages. God- I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“You didn’t wreck my marriage, Niall, I did.” Bressie sighs. “Don’t blame yourself for that. I’m happier now. My ex and I are even friends now. Not like, great ones, but we talk once a week or so. I’ve told her about you.”

“You what?” Niall asks, his head snapping up with his eyes blown wide. “Why?”

“Because you’re an important part of my life.” Bressie chuckles. “Does it matter?”

“Just- You know this isn’t going anywhere, right?” Niall asks. “I love having you as a friend Bress, but that’s all this will ever be. I don’t want to lead you on.”

“Niall, you aren’t really my type anymore.” Bressie laughs. “I don’t mean that you aren’t attractive, because you are, but I prefer my guys a little more – Well – like me, actually. I like a guy that can hold me down.”

“Oh my god, you’re a bottom.” Niall snorts. “Oh Christ- I did not see that coming.”

“Shut up!” Bressie says with a furious blush. “Slept with women ‘til I was thirty four. I have a bottoming deficit to make up for.”

“I’m totally telling Zayn.” Niall grins.

“Ugh, you’ve officially used up all the sympathy I have for you being shot.” Bressie groans.

 

“There’s an ambulance coming in.” Niall calls out. “Fireman with crush injuries, severe burns, and smoke inhalation. Get me a free CT machine now and a plastics specialist. The best we have on-site. He’s going to need to be debrided while he’s in surgery, and a man who risks his life saving people deserves better than an intern.”

“Yes, Doctor Styles.” a nurse nods, directing foot-traffic in the A&E.

“It’s Doctor Horan now.” Niall mutters before walking out to the ambulance bay. It only takes another minute before it shows up, and Niall springs into action the second that the ambulance doors open up. He halts once he recognizes the familiar face behind the oxygen mask, the air knocked out of his lungs by the horror of the situation. “Liam- No.”

“Doctor, we need to get moving.” a nurse says, grabbing ahold of the cart and looking at him.

“Someone get the chief down here now!” Niall shouts, rushing in with his eyes locked on Liam. “And keep Doctor Payne as far away from here as possible. Start the patient on corticosteroids for the smoke inhalation.”

 

“What do you need, Horan?” Corden asks a few minutes later once he steps into the CT room that Niall strong-armed his way into.

“You need to clear me for surgery right now.” Niall tells him.

“Someone else can handle the surgery, Niall. Don’t-” Corden starts.

“This is Zayn’s husband!” Niall growls. “I’m not letting anyone else near him. Recovering or not, resident or not, I am the best trauma surgeon in this whole fucking city. I don’t care if you fucking fire me, I am saving this man’s life. Clear me.”

“Fine. You’re clear.” Corden sighs. “Where is Zayn?”

“In surgery, thank god.” Niall tells him. “Don’t let him know about this until after he’s out, and don’t let him in the observation booth or my OR I can’t afford the distraction. I can barely afford the time this scan is taking, but I’m not going in blind on this one.”

“Don’t make me regret this, Horan.” James says quietly, closing the door behind him when he leaves.

“I won’t.” Niall says, though he’s not sure if he’s saying it for James, or himself.

 

He’s done this so many times. So many times, and it never stops hurting. But, this time- This time is so much worse, because he’s not just giving the report to a patient’s loved one. He’s giving it to his own loved one as well. The man who stood behind him at his wedding, the man who held his hand when he got the call that Noah’s mother had gone into labor, the man who was the first person to truly love him. Niall has to go tell that man that his husband might never wake up again.

His fingers carve deep scars into his jacket, and he walks through the door to the waiting room. Zayn’s still in scrubs, pacing back and forth in the room by himself. The nurse behind the desk is giving him a sympathetic look, and the security guard by the door looks helpless. Everyone in this hospital loves Doctor Zayn Malik-Payne, and watching him fall apart has to be killing them almost as much as it is Niall.

Zayn stops in his tracks once he hears the door close, and snaps up his head to look at Niall. Before he even takes a step, Niall tells him, “He’s alive.”

“Good.” Zayn growls, stalking forward furiously. “What the fuck were you thinking, telling people not to let me know that my own husband was going into surgery? What the fuck were you thinking performing the surgery?”

“I-” is all Niall gets out before he’s stumbling backwards and hitting the wall. He tastes blood, and the inside of his mouth is throbbing where Zayn’s fist pushed it into his teeth, cutting it open.

“How fucking dare you?” Zayn roars, struggling to break free of the security guard’s grip. “How dare you touch my husband? You had no business in that OR. You could have killed him! You should never have been allowed anywhere near him!”

“Who would you rather have had do it?” Niall asks.

“Someone who’s fit to be a doctor.” Zayn spits out venomously. “Because you certainly fucking aren’t! You aren’t fit to be anything to anyone! Not anymore! You’re done, Niall! I’m talking to Corden in the morning, and you’ll be finished here! I don’t ever want to see your face again! Get out of here! Now!”

 

It’s late. Too late to be doing this. He’s probably going to wake the entire neighborhood. That doesn’t stop his fist from pounding against the door though. It doesn’t stop him from yelling, and knocking, and ringing the doorbell. Not until the door wrenches open and he’s met with an eyeful of half-naked, and fully pissed off, Harry. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Harry growls.

“I need to see him.” Niall chokes out around a sob. “Please. I need to see Noah.”

“It’s two in the morning!” Harry hisses.

“Please.” Niall whimpers, his knees quaking like they’re about to give. “I- I have to see him.”

“What’s happened?” Harry asks, grabbing Niall by the elbow and pulling him through the entrance on shaky feet. “What happened to your face?”

“Liam was in an accident.” Niall tells him. “He- He got hurt. I did what I could, but he’s in a coma right now, and I don’t know when, or if, he’s going to wake up. My face doesn’t matter. I need to see my son, Harry. I need to know that he’s alright. I know that sounds stupid, but I need to.”

“Slow down.” Harry says gently, leading Niall towards the sofa and sitting him down. “What do you mean that you did what you could?”

“The surgery.” Niall mumbles. “I performed the surgery.”

“What- What the fuck?” Harry asks angrily. “What are you doing working? You were shot seven weeks ago.”

“I couldn’t stay at home and do nothing anymore.” Niall mutters. “I had to do something. I’ve been working non-surgically in the A&E, but I made Corden clear me for surgery so that I could save Liam when he came in.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot!” Harry snaps. “You’re supposed to be recovering.”

“You don’t understand.” Niall sighs, shaking his head. “There was nothing for me at home, Harry. Just my mum making me feel shitty, and stewing in all of my fucking rage and depression. The hospital is the only thing that I have left. It’s the only place where I can focus on other people’s pain instead of my own. If I hadn’t started working again, I’d be insane by now.”

“You are insane!” Harry snarls. “You lost half of a lung less than two months ago. You should be taking care of yourself.”

“Why?” Niall asks harshly. “What possible reason is there to take care of myself, Harry? What’s left for me besides my work? Fucking nothing. Are you going to let me see Noah, or not?”

“He’s not here.” Harry says quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “He’s staying with Gem and Olli tonight. He stays with them every Friday night now.”

“Fine.” Niall says icily, pushing off of the couch with a great deal of effort. Harry reaches a hand out to help him, but Niall flinches away, stumbling onto his feet. “I should have figured that tonight would go like that. Everything else has been shit. Why not this? I’ll go then. I, um- You’ll be getting a call tomorrow from my solicitor, but it’s not a bad one. Not for you.”

“Niall-” Harry says softly, but he’s cut off by another voice. One that doesn’t belong to Niall.

“Babe, are you coming back to bed?” the guy asks from the entryway to the sitting room.

Niall and Harry both go still at the sudden intrusion, and their eyes widen while caught in each other’s. Niall’s whole body aches already, but it gives a painful throb when he finally turns to look at the scruffy, nearly naked brunet standing there wearing a look of annoyance and not much else. “Oh my god.” Niall breathes out in shock.

“Xander – I, uh – I think that you should probably leave.” Harry says nervously.

“Don’t bother.” Niall spits out. “If Noah isn’t here, then I have no reason to be either.”

Harry’s mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but Niall doesn’t give him time. He has to go. He has to leave, because he’s drawing in so little air that he thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t get out of there right fucking now. He can’t really run right now, but he walks as fast as he can, ignoring Harry pleading with him to come back and talk. He staggers through the door, and makes his way out through the gate.

He’d taken a cab to get here, but he doesn’t think he can work his mobile well enough right now to call for another one. His flat isn’t that far. Only a few kilometers. He can walk. His lung might give out, but at the moment he doesn’t really care about anything other than getting as far away from Harry as he can, as quickly as possible. The universe has other ideas.

A hand wraps around Niall’s arm, and Harry murmurs, “Niall, please. Come back inside. Talk to me.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth, than a black sedan pulls up, and Niall reconsiders the possibility of there being some sort of god. Bressie is behind the wheel, and Niall manages to pull himself free of his ex-husband’s grip and climb inside before Harry can say anything else.

“Drive.” Niall orders, gasping for air and curling up against the door. Bressie follows the order without hesitation, bless his soul, and peels out with how fast he shoots forward. Niall can see Harry calling after them in the side mirror, and squeezes his eyes shut to block it out. “How did you know where I was?”

“Zayn called me.” Bressie answers. “He told me about what happened. About Liam’s accident, and about the things that he said to you after the surgery. When you didn’t come home, I figured that this was a pretty good bet. He didn’t mean it, Niall.”

“It doesn’t matter if he meant it.” Niall mutters. “He was right. I’m not any good to anyone here anymore. That’s why I turned in my resignation with Corden.”

“Niall, you’ve been through a series of traumatic experiences.” Bressie says gently. “Now isn’t the time to be making life-changing decisions. I’ll speak to Corden in the morning.”

“I’m not changing my mind.” Niall whispers. “I’ve already made my choices, and I’m going to do what I have to do.”


	6. Chapter 6

“You really need to stop showing up here without calling. Especially this fucking early.” Niall huffs. He’s already had a rough morning, and he isn’t in the mood for piling more shit onto it. “Go away. I’m not going to talk to you right now.”

He starts to close the door, but Harry slams his palm against it and growls out, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Why not?” Niall asks. “I don’t want to talk about last night, Harry.”

“Last night?” Harry scoffs angrily, barreling into Niall’s flat. “You think I’m just here because of last night? No, this is about so much more than last fucking night! I just got off the phone with my solicitor, Niall! Can you guess what he told me?”

“That I signed over sole custody to you.” Niall says quietly.

“That you abandoned our fucking son five hours after you came banging on my door at two in the morning because you ‘needed’ to see him!” Harry roars. “What the fuck, Niall?”

“Why are you so mad?” Niall asks harshly. “It’s what you wanted.”

“I never wanted you to abandon Noah!” Harry yells.

“According to you, I abandoned him years ago.” Niall counters. “I’m trying to do right by him here, Harry. And it makes no sense for me to keep custody anyways. Not anymore. I’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Gone?” comes a voice belonging neither to Harry or Niall, but Bressie. He’s standing in the door to Niall’s former bedroom, and he looks confused and upset. Niall doesn’t know why. “Niall, what do you mean gone?”

“Get your fucking boyfriend out of here.” Harry spits out. “We are going to talk, and I don’t need an audience.”

“There’s nothing to talk about! It’s already done!” Niall shouts, immediately regretting it when his lung feels like he’s been run through with a knife. He draws in a ragged breath, and says, “Now go.”

“What about Noah?” Harry asks angrily. “You weren’t even going to say goodbye to him before you left him behind? He loves you so much. He’s cried every day for the last six weeks, because you didn’t want him to come see you. Now I’m supposed to tell him that you don’t even want to be his father anymore?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what you tell him, Harry.” Niall mutters. “Tell him I died or something, if that makes things easier for you. You’ve got the money to stage a funeral. I don’t care what you do. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be a father to him where I’m going. And honestly, I never want to see you again. I can’t. Especially after last night. Go back to your house, with your boyfriend, and leave me alone.”

“You don’t get to judge me!” Harry snaps. “You’re the one who didn’t even wait until we were divorced to start seeing someone!”

“Bressie isn’t my boyfriend!” Niall yells, doubling over in pain. It doesn’t stop him though. He’s furious, and he’s going to push through the way his chest feels like it’s literally on fire. “He’s my fucking therapist! My live-in therapist! Because nobody trusts me not to try to kill myself! I had a baby-sitter at work, and I have one here, because nobody thinks my mental stability is at a level where I can handle anything alone!”

“I think we all need to take a minute-” Bressie starts, stepping in between them.

“Get him out of here.” Niall gasps out, unable to take a proper breath anymore through the explosive pain in his right side. “Please, Bress.”

“Niall!” Harry growls. “We are going to fucking have this out!”

“You need to leave.” Bressie says calmly, reaching forward to take Harry by the shoulder. All hell explodes in that moment. Niall stumbles backwards into a chair, his breaths only coming in shallow pants and his heart racing. Harry springs forward, smashing his fist into Bressie’s jaw. Niall hasn’t seen him lay a hand on a person in anger in years, but now he won’t stop.

He punches Bressie again and again, yelling something that Niall can’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears. Bressie isn’t someone to fuck with, though. Even at forty-four years old, he hasn’t lost an ounce of muscle tone, and he has several inches on Harry. It’s no surprise when Niall’s ex flies backwards across the room, crushing the cheap, laminated plywood coffee table when he lands.

Niall cuts out after that, his vision going dark as Bressie launches himself at Harry. His chest is exploding, and he’s glad for the numbness that comes after it. Maybe it’s finally happening. Maybe, now that he’s given up everything, now that he has nothing to hold onto anymore, he’s finally going to be allowed to die.

 

That isn’t the case. No, apparently he’s not done being punished yet. That, or Hell is a hospital, and Zayn is the devil. 

“I’m not the devil, you cunt.” Zayn huffs, brushing Niall’s fringe out of his eyes. “Don’t be rude.”

“Did I say that out loud?” Niall asks, his voice shredding his throat.

“Yeah.” Zayn says with a wet laugh, choked in his throat. 

“What are you doing here?” Niall rasps, groping for the cup of water in front of him.

Zayn grabs it and hold the straw up to Niall’s lips. Niall takes as big of a sip as he can manage, but his chest screams, and he lets it go. 

“Your lung collapsed.” Zayn explains, setting the cup to the side. “They had to go in and fix it again.”

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “Why aren’t you with Liam?”

“I am.” Zayn shrugs, pulling back the curtain to reveal Liam in the bed next to Niall, attached to an array of machines. “Technically you two should be in different wards, but I pulled some strings.”

“Why?” Niall questions, wishing Zayn would start predicting his questions so that he didn’t have to keep talking.

“Because I didn’t want to keep walking between floors.” Zayn shrugs. “I was scared something was going to happen to one of you while I was with the other. This way, I can watch you both, and respond immediately if something happens.”

“You said that you never wanted to see me again.” Niall points out.

“I was upset, Niall.” Zayn says gently. “I’m sorry about the other night. I am. I lost control because I was scared out of my mind about Liam. I didn’t mean any of that. I swear.”

“The other night?” Niall asks. “How long have I been out?”

“Three days.” Zayn tells him. “Feels like a month, but it’s only been three days. I had them keep you under to give your new sutures time to settle.”

“Oh.” is all Niall can think to say. Talking hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. All he wants to do is die. Why won’t they just let him die?

“Because we love you, Niall.” Zayn says adamantly.

“Fucking hell.” Niall groans. He’s got to be more careful not to say things out loud. Fucking morphine.

“Do you really want to die?” Zayn asks. “After everything that you’ve survived, do you really just want to die?”

“Yes.” Niall admits, though he isn’t sure why. “I – I signed over custody to Harry. I have nothing left, Zee. Look at me. I’m a mess. It’d be better for everyone if I wasn’t around anymore.”

“No it wouldn’t.” Zayn growls. “And if you weren’t laid out in that bed, I’d hit you again for even thinking that. And for signing over custody of my godson. And for deciding to leave without telling anyone. What the fuck, Niall?”

“You were right.” Niall mutters. “I’m not any good to anyone. Least of all Noah.”

“He disagrees.” Zayn huffs. “He’s been in here every day, crying over you.”

“Harry brought him still?” Niall asks.

“No. Harry isn’t allowed in the hospital at the moment.” Zayn sighs. “Nor is Bressie. I had them both thrown out after they got into another fist-fight over who was staying with you, and who wasn’t.”

“Jesus Christ!” Niall groans. “Did Noah see it?”

“He was with Louis in the cafeteria, thank god.” Zayn tells him. “I had to step in, and it wasn’t pretty. They both needed stitches. Harry’s been sending Noah with Louis since then.”

“Tell Louis not to bring him again.” Niall mutters. “He’s not my son anymore.”

“Niall James Horan!” Zayn snarls. “Don’t you ever say that!”

“What good have I ever been in his life?” Niall asks harshly. “God – He refused to call me Papa until he was three, because he didn’t realize that I was his father. Harry was right. I’m a terrible parent. I should never have contested the custody in the first place. I don’t have any right being a part of his life.”

“You love him.” Zayn argues. “You may not always be around, but you love him, Niall. You love him, and he loves you. That’s all that matters. You can fix things, you can be a better father, but that’s not going to happen if you just quit.”

“I’m not even going to be here in a few days.” Niall counters. “It’s done, Zayn.”

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” Zayn asks.

“Johns Hopkins offered me a fellowship.” Niall tells him. “A few weeks before we left for Haiti, they called up and offered it to me. I said that I couldn’t take it. They called again a few days before Liam got hurt with another offer, thinking that having the ‘Hero of MSF’ would be great, and I told them I’d think about it. After what you said, I realized that the only thing I’m good for is surgery, so I called them back and took it before I resigned with Corden. I start in eight weeks, and I’m moving at the end of next week.”

“No way in hell.” Zayn says adamantly. “You’re not moving to America. You’re not leaving all of us behind.”

“You don’t get to decide!” Niall snaps. “Go sit with your husband, and leave me alone. I’m exhausted, and I have nothing else to say about this.”

“We’ll fucking see.” Zayn mutters, closing the curtain behind him as he leaves.

 

“Papa, wake up.” says a small voice, pulling Niall out from the restless sleep he was in. “Papa, I saw your eyes move. Stop pretending.”

“’M not pretending, Noah.” Niall mumbles. “Go play with Daddy. Papa’s tired. I need a little while longer to sleep.”

“Daddy’s not here, Papa.” Noah huffs. “He’s at home. I came to see you.”

That cuts through the fog in Niall’s brain, reminding him that this is very much not how things should be. He’s not at home – at Harry’s home, because that’s not Niall’s home anymore – he’s at the hospital, and Noah shouldn’t be here. The pain from his chest collides with his brain, pushing a loud groan out through his lips when he shifts to sit up. 

“Noah, what are you doing here?” Niall rasps out.

“I came to see you.” Noah repeats exasperatedly. “I’ve been coming every day. Uncle Louis brought me.”

“Where’s Uncle Zayn?” Niall asks, glaring around the room.

“He’s talking to Uncle Louis. They were talking, and Uncle Louis got really mad and said some bad words, and Uncle Zayn took him out to the hallway.” Noah explains. “Are you okay?”

“It’s been a rough week, bubba.” Niall sighs. “I’m okay though. You don’t have to worry about me. How have you been? Doing good in school?”

“Yeah.” Noah says proudly, a big smile parting his lips to show off his teeth. 

His two front teeth are missing, and it would make Niall laugh if he wasn’t in so much pain, both physically and emotionally. Noah isn’t supposed to be here. It’s like fucking torture, knowing that his baby boy still loves him so much. They must not have told him yet. They must not have sat him down and explained to him that Niall has chosen to opt out of Noah’s life, because he just isn’t good enough to be a part of it.

Noah’s in the middle of a story about something that happened earlier in school, but Niall cuts him off by asking, “Do you think that you can go get Uncle Louis for me?”

“Sure.” Noah says with a nod, climbing down out of the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He scurries towards the door, and Niall can hear Louis and Zayn arguing as soon as it opens. It doesn’t scare Noah off though. He just stands up straighter and says, “Uncle Louis, Papa wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, I have a few things to say to him too.” Louis growls.

He starts to stalk forward, but Zayn grabs him and says, “Keep it PG.”

“Fine.” Louis spits out. He storms into the room, standing at the foot of Niall’s bed, and asks, “What the absolute fu-dging he-ck do you think you’re at you stupid little cun-try?”

“Christ.” Niall sighs at Louis’ barely-there attempt to not curse. “I’m doing the right thing, Louis.”

“I’ve seen you do some stupid things in the time we’ve known each other, Niall, but this-” he says with a mirthless laugh. “This takes the cake. You’re doing the right thing? For who? All I’ve seen from you lately is one cowardly decision after another. So if you want to ‘do the right thing’, then do it. Tell him. Tell him the truth right now.”

“Louis-” Niall whimpers.

“Tell him!” Louis yells. “It’s the least that you owe him! If you have your mind made up, if you’re really going to do this, then tell him. Own up to what you’re doing. Watch his heart break, and know that you’re the reason that it’s happening, because you’re a selfish coward. Tell him, or I will.”

“What’s Uncle Louis talking about, Papa?” Noah asks timidly.

“I, um – I’m going away, Noah.” Niall says softly, choking back tears. Louis’ incredulous scoff does nothing to help matters. “I’m going away, and I won’t be coming back this time. It’s just going to be you and Daddy from now on.”

“Papa, why?” Noah asks, his voice already starting to break.

“Because I have to, bubba.” Niall tells him. “I’m going to miss you so much, but I have to go.”

“I don’t want you to go again.” Noah sobs, a dam breaking behind his eyelids and spilling forth streams of tears down his perfect, rosy cheeks.

“I know.” Niall says weakly, taking Noah’s hand in his own. “I’m so sorry, Noh-Noh. I love you with all my heart, but it’s better this way. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Will you call me?” Noah asks.

“No.” Niall admits. “I’m not going to be your Papa anymore, Noah. You’ll still have Daddy, but I’m going away for good. It’ll be better this way.”

“Fucking bastard.” Louis growls, taking Noah’s other hand and leading the boy out of the room despite his screaming cries of protest as he struggles to get free and come back to Niall’s side. Niall can still hear them when the door closes, and it makes him cry as well.

“You’re unbelievable.” Zayn mutters. “Even seeing how much he loves you, you’re still going through with this?”

“It’s because I love him!” Niall chokes out. “If I stay, I’d ruin his life at some point.”

“So instead, you just walk away?” Zayn scoffs. “You’re going to let him think that he doesn’t matter at all to one of the two people in the world who are supposed to love him unconditionally? You think that that isn’t going to ruin his life?”

“What should I have done?” Niall asks sharply, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks with his hand. “What would you do if you knew that being around someone you loved was going to destroy them?”

“I’d make myself better!” Zayn snaps. “I’d stop pitying myself every minute of every goddamn day, and I’d fix myself to be worthy of them.”

“There’s no fixing me, Zayn.” Niall whispers. “It’s just not possible.”

 

“Hey.” says a gruff voice from the door. He’s the first visitor Niall has had in the three days since Zayn had him transferred out of Liam’s room after what happened with Noah. His eye is still swollen, and the rest of his face is a mottled amalgam of yellow and purple bruises.

“Thought you were banned.” Niall mumbles. He hasn’t had anything to do. They don’t allow him anything in this room. He’s glad for the distraction, even if it isn’t who he’s been wishing would come.

“I talked to Corden and pleaded my case. As long as I don’t hit anyone, I’m allowed to visit.” Bressie explains, taking the seat next to Niall. “The nurse told me you haven’t had anyone stop by since Noah.”

“You know about that?” Niall asks.

“Louis came by the flat to get all of Noah’s things.” Bressie says softly. “He told me everything, including about you and Johns Hopkins. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I planned on discontinuing our arrangement.” Niall shrugs. “I’m not working anymore, which means I don’t have to follow Zayn’s rules. I was going to ask you if you wanted to sublet the flat before Harry came around. If you said no, then I was going to ask you to move out.”

“I thought we were more than a therapist and patient, Niall.” Bressie sighs. “I thought we were friends.”

“We were.” Niall mutters. “But not good enough friends that I would tell you, so that you could try to do what Zayn did. So that you could try to manipulate me into staying.”

“I wouldn’t have done that, Niall.” Bressie huffs. “I would have talked to you about it, yeah. I wouldn’t have used your son as a weapon against you though.”

“I’m pretty sure that Harry wouldn’t just lend him to you.” Niall scoffs. “Not after you threw him through a coffee table. What the fuck was that about, Bressie?”

“He hit me first.” Bressie says with a scowl. “Multiple times.”

“And you could have easily subdued him without making the situation any worse.” Niall counters. “We both know it.”

“I – I was upset.” Bressie admits, looking away. “As a therapist, I know that I shouldn’t have done it. I’m more than just a therapist, though. I’m a man, Niall. I had just gotten some bad news when you said that you were leaving, and then Harry assaulted me, and – And I took out my anger on him in an unhealthy way.”

“And the second time?” Niall asks. “When Zayn had to step in?”

“I didn’t think that he should still be there when you woke up.” Bressie says firmly. “Not when he’s still so angry with you. When you – When you lost consciousness, and I was checking to see what had happened, he just sat there yelling at you the whole time. Even on the ride to the hospital, I was in the back seat with you, giving you CPR to keep your heart from stopping again, and he was still yelling at you while he was driving.”

“He was scared, Bressie.” Niall sighs. “That’s how he gets when he’s scared and he doesn’t know what to do. You should have seen him the first time that Noah got sick. He yelled for hours at me, and the pediatrician, and himself. He doesn’t know how to handle fear, and that makes him angry. The angrier he seems, the more terrified he is.”

“So was he scared when he attacked me?” Bressie asks harshly. “What about the second time? I never threw the first punch, Niall.”

“I don’t know why he did that.” Niall admits. “I’ve known him for almost a decade, and that’s basically the only time I’ve ever seen him hit someone. He used to box for a living, and after that, he never wanted to hurt anyone ever again. He had an entire army of enforcers when he was the Cheshire Cat, but they were literally never used for violence during his tenure. He doesn’t believe in physically hurting people. Threats occasionally, but never actual violence.”

“My face tells a different story.” Bressie grumbles. “As do my ribs and stomach. I’m seriously considering pressing assault charges.”

“Don’t.” Niall breathes out, eyes going wide. “Bressie, please. If he goes to prison, Noah will go into the foster care system.”

“That’s why I haven’t done it yet.” Bressie says quietly. “I was hoping that you’d come to your senses and withdraw your abdication of parental rights before it goes through.”

“I’m not.” Niall says, shaking his head. “The best thing that I can do for Noah is to let him go.”

“Nobody else agrees with you on that.” Bressie argues. “Especially Noah. Zayn went to visit them yesterday, and apparently he hasn’t stopped crying for days. He won’t talk to anyone. Not even Harry. He’s locked himself in his room, and he refuses to leave. He’s a wreck, Niall.”

“I’m not in any shape to take care of him!” Niall hisses, tugging on his restraints. “Look at me! Look where I am! This is a fucking mental ward!”

“You’re here because you’re a danger to yourself!” Bressie snaps. “You’re here because you told Zayn that you want to die, Niall! What did you think would happen? He tried to turn your mind around with Noah, but when you let Noah go, he knew that you needed to be in here. You’re depressed, and you need help. You can get that here.”

“I’ve been tied to a fucking bed and fed pill after pill!” Niall growls. “They haven’t even sent a therapist in days! I’m not getting help! I’m a fucking prisoner!”

“You’re a patient.” Bressie says quietly. “And from what I’ve been told, you’re quite a volatile one. I hear that you tried to attack the last therapist that they sent.”

“I did not.” Niall scoffs. “I just threw his stupid fucking notebook. And I might have called him a useless cunt and yelled at him a little. It’s not like I punched him.”

“You had to be sedated because the doctor was worried for his personal safety.” Bressie counters. “Niall, you’re at risk of losing your medical license. Corden, Zayn, and I are fighting for you, but you’ve been building a strong case against yourself. Between Haiti and this – I don’t know what’s going to happen. The final hearing was today. They’re deliberating, and we’ll find out in a few days.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?” Niall growls. “I have a right to defend myself at a committee hearing.”

“You’ve been declared temporarily mentally incompetent.” Bressie mumbles. 

“Fuck all of you!” Niall spits out. “My mind is fine! You and Zayn don’t get to gang up on me and take away my right to make decisions for myself just because you don’t agree with them!”

“You’re making these choices because you’re depressed, Niall.” Bressie huffs. “I’ve seen the records from your last stay in a mental health ward. You’ve been depressed for a long time, and from what I’ve seen, it’s just gotten worse. And Zayn and I had nothing to do with the declaration. We tried, but we couldn’t do it without a court order, since you hadn’t actually attempted suicide again. Harry still has your power of attorney. He’s the one who made it happen.”

“Oh fuck.” Niall breathes out. “No! No, I transferred that to Zayn!”

“There was a problem with the paperwork apparently.” Bressie shrugs. “Something about a missing signature. It defaulted back to Harry, since he was the last holder.”

“Fuck!” Niall yells, wincing at the sharp protest his lung gives.

“I had the same reaction.” Bressie sighs. “He definitely wouldn’t be my first choice. That said, he’s been cooperative so far.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Niall scoffs. “Who wouldn’t want to declare their ex mentally unfit? He probably had a laugh at that.”

“He didn’t.” Bressie says quietly. “He hated signing it. He did it because Zayn made him see that it was for the best. He’s furious with us for doing this to you.”

“He can get in line behind me.” Niall mutters. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Alright.” Bressie nods. “Before I go, though – I, um – I don’t know if anyone has told you, but Liam woke up. You saved him, Niall.”

“And yet, I’m mentally incompetent.” Niall says bitterly. “I saved a man who should have died a dozen times over, but I’m not fit to make decisions. Fuck you, and Zayn, and Harry. I’ll never forgive any of you for this.”

“I hope you’ll see, sooner or later, that we’re doing this because we care about you, Niall.” Bressie sighs, standing up and walking out through the door, closing it behind him just as the first sob escapes Niall’s throat. He tries to curl in on himself, but the cuffs holding him down to the bed keep it from happening.

 

“Doctor Horan, you have a visitor.” a soft voice says, pulling Niall out of his drug-induced haze. Everything was nice there, and he kind of resents her for it. Especially when he glances towards the door.

“No.” Niall tells her. “I don’t want him here. Send him away.”

“She can’t technically do that anymore.” Harry tells him before turning to the nurse and saying, “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave us alone, miss. I have a lot to discuss with Doctor Horan.”

“None of you can ever give me even the slightest bit of respect, can you?” Niall sighs once the nurse leaves. “It isn’t enough that you had me committed. Now you can’t even respect my wishes to never have to see your face again.”

“Zayn convinced me that it was the only way to help.” Harry says quietly, sitting in the chair that hasn’t been occupied in the two days since Bressie’s visit. “I didn’t want to do this to you, Niall. Do you think that I like this?”

“I think you love it.” Niall scoffs. “Seeing me like this has just got to be the cherry on top for you. You’ve got full custody, you’ve got your divorce, and now I’m restrained in a mental ward. I’m sure this feels like vindication to you after I was such a shit father and husband.”

“I stopped the custody papers from going through.” Harry admits. “I had them declared invalid after you were put in here. It’s the one good thing to come out of this.”

“I signed them before I was declared mentally incompetent!” Niall hisses. “You had no right to-”

“I had every right, after Zayn told me everything!” Harry snaps. “Everything, Niall! He told me about why you really went to Syria, and about what you did with the pills, and about Johns Hopkins, and about how you told him that you wished we’d all just let you die when your lung collapsed. So I had every right to stop the paperwork. I wasn’t letting you ruin our son’s life because you were having a breakdown.”

“This wasn’t the breakdown, Harry!” Niall snaps. “Trying to kill myself was the breakdown! I shouldn’t be in here right now, but you three have decided that I’m crazy just because you don’t agree with my choices. It doesn’t matter to any of you that I’m sane. It doesn’t matter to you that I made the decisions I made with a sound mind. No, all that matters is that I fit inside the neat little boxes that you all have set for me.”

“You ran to a warzone because I wanted another baby! And then you lied about it and forced your best friend to take the fall so that you wouldn’t be caught!” Harry growls. “What part of that sounds sane to you?”

“I wasn’t a good father.” Niall chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut when tears start to build in the corners. “I was already a terrible father, and you wanted me to have another kid with you.”

“If you were a terrible father, Noah wouldn’t be praying every night that you come back.” Harry sighs. “Whatever your faults as a husband may have been, you were a good dad, Niall. You could have been more present, yeah, but that doesn’t mean that you’re a bad father. You love Noah, and that’s all that really matters. I thought that having another baby would force you to focus on our relationship more.”

“I just needed time, Harry.” Niall whispers. “I know that it was a lot to ask, but I needed time. Once my fellowship was done, I’d have been an attending. My hours would have been more manageable. It’s not like I didn’t hate it as much as you did. I was doing the best that I could.”

“I know.” Harry admits. “It took me a long time to see it, but I do know that now, Niall.”

“Please go.” Niall whimpers. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I have to talk to you about something.” Harry sighs. “I, um – I just got out of court. You’ve been remanded into my custody. You’re going to be moving in with me and Noah, and having daily outpatient therapy sessions with Bressie until you’re not a danger to yourself anymore.”

“They can’t make you do that.” Niall tells him.

“They didn’t make me. I asked for it.” Harry says softly. “Niall, I don’t want your life to be like this.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Niall spits out. “I’m not going to be some burden on you and Noah. I’m certainly not living with my ex-husband. I’m not going.”

“You don’t really have a choice.” Harry mumbles. “You’re coming with me. That’s already been decided by a judge.”

“You fucking bastard!” Niall growls.

“Wouldn’t you rather be with Noah than in here?” Harry asks.

“No!” Niall yells. “Would you want him seeing you like this? Would you want to be held prisoner by me? Would you want to be trapped with a man you can’t even stand to look at anymore?”

“What do you want, Niall?” Harry questions desperately. “I’m trying here.”

“Trying to do what?” Niall asks. “Our marriage is over. I don’t want to be around you. All it looks like you’re trying to do is torture me.”

“I’m trying to save you.” Harry whispers.

“There’s nothing left to save!” Niall groans. “And you’re the last person in the world who could do it if there was. Being around you is going to hurt more than it helps, Harry. That’s why I’m moving to Baltimore. I need to get as far away from you as I can if I want any hope of being even somewhat useful to anyone.”

“You’re not moving.” Harry tells him. “Not to Baltimore, anyways. Johns Hopkins pulled their offer when they found out that your license has been temporarily suspended, pending evaluation of your mental state.”

“How the fuck did that happen?” Niall asks angrily.

“Zayn called and told them.” Harry shrugs.

“It’s like none of you even care if I’m happy.” Niall mutters. “Having me committed. Taking away my job. Making me move in with you. You all say that you want me to get better, but you’re just making it worse. For god’s sake, Harry – I will fucking beg if that’s what it takes – Don’t make me do this. If you have ever really loved me at all, please don’t do this to me.”

“I’m doing this for you because I love you, Niall.” Harry says, standing up. “You’ll see that eventually.”

“Fuck you!” Niall yells after his retreating back. He spits it out over and over until an orderly pins him down to the mattress and knocks him out with a sedative in his neck.


	7. Chapter 7

“How have things been going since you moved in with Harry?” Bressie asks, settling into the chair across from Niall.

“Fuck you.” Niall says calmly.

“It’s been four days of this, Niall.” Bressie sighs. “If you want to get better, then you’re going to have to try.”

“Fuck you.” Niall repeats, settling back into his own chair and kicking his feet up. It’s exactly how the last four sessions have gone. In fact, unless he’s around Noah – who’s both ecstatic and confused about Niall’s presence – it’s been exactly how every minute has been spent since he was forced into Harry’s house. He doesn’t actually talk to anyone about anything, except Noah. Bressie is getting fed up with it, Zayn is completely done with it, and even Harry is starting to show cracks in his calm, stoic demeanor. That’s exactly the point. Eventually he’ll give up and send Niall back to the hospital, and that’s all Niall wants.

“Harry tells me that you’ve been taking your medications at least.” Bressie continues. “How are those affecting you?”

“Um, I’d have to say – Fuck you.” Niall smirks.

“Being petulant isn’t going to get you declared mentally competent any faster, Niall.” Bressie mutters. “And you won’t get your medical license back until then either.”

“Then I guess I should say something like – Fuck you.” Niall hums, picking at a loose thread that he’s steadily been using to destroy the jumper that he’s wearing. It’ll be the second one today. They’ve both been Harry’s. “Or maybe – Fuck you.”

“You know, I’m beginning to suspect that you don’t really want to leave.” Bressie says smugly. “You’re finally back in the same house as Harry. Maybe that’s why you’re not cooperating, since you’ll be here until you’re cleared.”

“Fuck you!” Niall scoffs. 

That’s the exact opposite of the truth. He can’t stand spending every minute with his traitorous babysitters. Bressie, Zayn, and, most of all, Harry, never leave him alone. He’s given his pills in individual doses because Harry keeps the bottles locked up. He’s not allowed to shave without someone there watching him. The kitchen has a deadbolt on each door so that he can’t get to a knife. Even the bloody gate code has been changed, so he can’t leave the property. Someone is constantly watching him like a hawk, and it’s driving him up a wall. He’s a fucking prisoner, and he wants nothing more than to go back to the hospital, if it means getting away from all of this.

“You only have one option here, Niall.” Bressie says firmly. “You are going to get better. Your friends and your family aren’t going to accept anything less. And until you show progress, you’re going to stay right here in this house with Harry, doing sessions with me. When I believe you’re better, and we have the temporary mental incompetence status changed, you can move back into your flat. You’re the only one who can do anything to change what your life has become. Now – Are you going to take this seriously, or are we just going to go around in circles again today?”

“Fuck. You.” Niall bites out.

“Fine.” Bressie huffs, grabbing his tape recorder off of the coffee table and standing up. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. We’re going to keep doing this until you stop these childish games, and actively try to turn yourself around.”

“Fuck you.” Niall says lightly, waving at Bressie while he walks out of the room.

“Papa! Papa!” Noah squeals, running into the room only a moment after Bressie has closed the front door. He climbs into Niall’s lap and asks, “That was a short one, Papa. Does that mean you’re getting better?”

“It means I’m one step closer to getting what I want, bubba.” Niall chuckles, pushing Noah’s unruly fringe back from where it’s hanging in his eyes. He needs a haircut, but he’s found some old pictures of Harry, and wants to grow it out longer.

“Will you watch him while I finish up lunch?” Harry asks from the entryway, his voice hovering on the edge of irritated when he adds, “I thought that I’d have a bit more time before Bressie left, so it’s not done yet.”

Niall nods in response, but makes no move to talk to, or look at, Harry. He hears Harry let out a weary sigh, and then walk away. That’s how pretty much every interaction goes these days. Bressie gets to constantly hear ‘fuck you’, and Zayn gets mimicked relentlessly in an annoying affectation, and Harry gets completely ignored unless it’s about Noah. It’s working well for Niall. They’re all about to lose it and send him back. Just a few more days. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

“Did you have fun talking to your friend?” Noah asks.

“Loads.” Niall laughs. “What have you been up to?”

“I drew a picture.” Noah beams, holding up a piece of paper and nearly breaking Niall’s heart in one swift motion. It’s the three of them, Harry, Noah, and Niall, standing in a line and holding hands with Noah, who’s in between them. But there are others in the picture too. Niall thinks that the giant next to the picture version of himself is meant to be Bressie, and then next to Harry is another brunet man with a beard. “It’s you, and me, and your friend, and Daddy, and Mr. Xander.”

“You know about Mr. Xander?” Niall chokes out.

“Yeah.” Noah nods. “He comes over a lot to play with Daddy. They make funny noises really late though, and sometimes I can’t sleep.”

“How long has he been coming over?” Niall asks.

“Um-” Noah hums, tapping on his chin and crinkling his eyes in confusion. “Since before you went on your trip. A little while before that, I think.”

“Alright.” Niall says, forcing the numbness to take over instantly, before he can cry in front of Noah. “How about we watch some telly, bubba?”

“Yeah!” Noah cheers, scrambling off of Niall’s lap to grab the remote. He puts on some inane children’s program, and Niall tunes out until Harry comes to get them for lunch. Noah follows after Harry, but Niall just heads up to the guest room he’s been relegated to, and locks himself in for the rest of the night with a chair tucked under the knob to keep Harry out when he comes up trying to get Niall to talk to him.

 

“Niall, you need to eat something.” Harry huffs. “You can’t take your pills on an empty stomach.”

Niall says nothing, staring at the section of the paper that Harry has already discarded. He’s not really reading, can’t focus on anything other than the ache in his chest enough to actually process a word, but he refuses to even acknowledge Harry anymore. Or eat. It came to him this morning that if he didn’t eat for long enough, they’d be forced to hospitalize him again, and maybe they’ll just leave him there. 

It’s a better plan than just waiting to piss them off enough that they send him away. Harry is nothing if not stubborn, and Niall starving himself is much more likely to get him away from his ex in a timely manner. It’s either this, or punching Harry in the jaw every single time that he pretends to give a shit about Niall, but he doesn’t want Noah to see that.

“Niall!” Harry says sharply, tearing the paper out of Niall’s hands. “God – Would you stop acting like you’re younger than our son, and just fucking talk to me?”

“Uh-oh, Daddy said a bad word.” Noah mumbles through a mouthful of egg.

“Noah, baby, why don’t you go eat in the living room and watch your shows while Daddy has a talk with Papa?” Harry sighs.

“Okay.” Noah shrugs, grabbing his plate and wandering out through the door.

“Are you happy now?” Harry snaps. “Making me curse in front of Noah?”

Niall barely manages to suppress the urge to roll his eyes and point out that Harry did that of his own accord. Niall isn’t in a position to ‘make’ Harry do anything. Niall can’t even get Harry to respect him enough to let him go back to the hospital. No, Niall may be playing against Harry, but Harry is the one who’s losing it all on his own.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” Harry asks weakly, slouching back in his chair. “I’m just trying to help, Niall.”

Again, it takes a gargantuan effort to keep himself quiet and still. Harry just presses on with, “Do you really hate me this much? Is being back here with our son not enough to at least get you to try and be civil with me?”

Niall is being civil. Harry has entirely ruined his life. Twice. Considering that, Niall is being completely civil. Whether he would be or not if Noah wasn’t around is a question that Niall doesn’t know the answer to. Chances are good that if Noah wasn’t here, Niall probably would have already offed himself. Harry has been careful, but Niall has noted a number of ways he could do it anyways. He just doesn’t want Noah seeing him like that.

“Why will you talk to Bressie and Zayn, but not me?” Harry asks, tugging at his hair. “I know that the divorce makes things awkward, but you have to at least acknowledge that I’m trying here. I’m trying, Niall!”

Niall can’t take anymore after that. He stands up from the table and walks out the door, ignoring the sounds of Harry starting to cry. Some part of him still wants to make things right, to go back and stop Harry from shedding another tear, but then another part of his brain reminds him that Harry has somebody else to do that for him now, and that makes him slam his door just a bit harder than necessary.

 

“Fuck you!” Niall growls, tugging against his restraints. Leave it to Zayn to figure out Niall’s plan and outsmart him. It’s been three days since he’s eaten a thing, or spoken to anyone, or left his room. 

This morning, Zayn had decided that he was done with it, and broke down the barricaded door to Niall’s room with Liam’s fire-axe. After that, he’d dragged Niall downstairs by the hair, kicking and screaming, and used a ‘borrowed’ set of hospital restraints to tie Niall to the chair with Harry and Bressie’s help. Now he’s pushing an NG tube up Niall’s nose to go down his esophagus to force food into his stomach while Bressie holds his head and neck still. Harry’s off somewhere with Noah, who got very upset when Niall was being restrained and needed to be calmed down.

“You first.” Zayn mutters, taping the tube in place on Niall’s face so that it can’t be knocked loose. “What are you playing at here, Niall?”

“Fuck you!” Niall repeats, slumping back in his chair when Zayn hits the button on the feeding pump, putting an end to his plan.

“I get that you don’t want to be here, but look what you’re doing to Noah!” Zayn snaps. “Look what you’re doing to all of us! Harry is actually considering sending you back to the mental ward! Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” Niall roars, wincing because the tube, small as it may be, makes it a bit difficult to speak with the way it’s jammed down his throat.

“Niall, if you keep this up, you’re going to lose your license permanently.” Bressie says softly, crouching down next to him. “I know that you don’t want that. So why won’t you cooperate?”

“Send me back, and I will.” Niall offers. “Move me in with Zayn, or back into the flat with you, or even put me back in the fucking mental ward, but don’t keep me here for another minute. I’ll eat, I’ll take my meds, and I’ll work with a therapist. Just. Get. Me. Out. Of. Here.”

“I’ve been trying to get your power of attorney transferred to me without Harry knowing about it, but the judge is being stubborn about it.” Zayn sighs. “I don’t get it though, Niall. All you wanted a few months ago was to be back here with Harry and Noah.”

“Noah told me that Harry started seeing someone before we even left for Haiti.” Niall admits in a whisper. “And then he lied about it when he yelled at me about Bressie. I can’t do it anymore, Zee. I can’t be here, knowing what he’s done all over this house with someone else. I can’t. Please, just get me out of here.”

“That bastard!” Zayn snarls, curling his hands into fists.

“No. It’s okay that he’s with someone. Like – I knew it was coming eventually.” Niall mutters. “I just can’t be around him anymore. I can’t look at him knowing that he replaced me so easily. I can’t stand being here when he’s only pretending to care so that Noah doesn’t think any less of him in a few years when he understands all of this.”

“Do you really think that’s what he’s doing?” Bressie asks.

“Harry is a manipulator. It’s what he did as the Cheshire Cat, and it’s what he’s doing now.” Niall shrugs. “He wanted me out of his life completely, but now he’s willing to take me in and fix me? No. No, he’s just making sure that he gets ahead of this. He’s making sure that, in a few years, when Noah asks what really happened, he can say that he did everything that he could to help me, even though being here with him is the worst thing in the world for me.”

“Nialler, even I have a hard time believing that.” Zayn says quietly. “I’ve never been Harry’s biggest fan, but that seems a bit paranoid.”

“You don’t know him like I do.” Niall huffs.

“You’re the one who always told me that he was a good man.” Zayn argues.

“I didn’t say that he’s not a good man.” Niall groans. “I said that he’s trying to come out of this looking like a hero to Noah when he’s not. He’s not a bad person for pretending to care, Zee.”

“I’ll do what I can about getting your power of attorney signed over, Niall. But it’s going to take a bit more time, if I can even do it at all.” Zayn sighs. “But until then, you need to start taking care of yourself. Eat. Take your meds. Comply with Bressie during therapy sessions. I have too much on my plate right now to be worrying about you trying to starve yourself.”

“If you two dickheads hadn’t come in here and forced the feeding tube into me, I’d have been hospitalized by tomorrow.” Niall growls. “I had a fucking plan, Zee. You two ruined it.”

“We thought you were actually trying to kill yourself!” Zayn hisses.

“If I was going to kill myself, there are any number of ways that I could have done it by now!” Niall grits out. “Ways that would be a lot less horrible than malnutrition! I’m a doctor for god’s sake, Zee. Don’t you think I know better than to try and starve myself to death? I know how long that would take, and how much it would hurt. I’ve been drinking water, which you would be able to tell from my skin if you were thinking like a damn doctor, instead of my brother. Dehydrating myself would have been better than starving myself, if just for time’s sake. I picked starvation because it would require a longer stay in the hospital than dehydration would.”

“Excuse me if I didn’t realize how much thought you’d put into this plan, Niall.” Zayn scoffs.

“You two are forgetting something!” Niall says angrily. “I’m not actually crazy! I’m depressed, yeah, but that hasn’t taken away my capacity for rational and calculated thought. You may have found a way to get the law on your side, but the facts aren’t. My mind is as sound as it’s ever been.”

“Sane people don’t pull the shit you pull.” Zayn mutters. “They don’t starve themselves in order to get back to a mental ward.”

“Out of everyone, you should understand. You went to prison, Zee! This place is my prison, and you’ve given the worst person in the world that you could pick, the title of warden. Imagine, just for a second, what you’re putting me through, and tell me that you wouldn’t do anything to get away from it, if it were you.” Niall bites out. “It wasn’t enough that you had me committed, that you ruined the best career opportunity that I could have ever had, that you decided to take my life away from me. No, you two had to team up with my ex-husband to put me in the worst situation that you possibly could.”

“We thought that being around Noah would help you come to your senses.” Bressie explains.

“I never left my senses!” Niall huffs. “And when you two finally have me declared sane, I’m still going to sign the paperwork and find another city to do my fellowship in, at the very least. Because this place is my own personal Hell now, you two. I can’t be a father to Noah if it means being around Harry ever again. I can’t. Because I will never recover, never move on, if he’s still in any part of my life. That’s what I was trying to do. I was trying to take care of myself. It hurts like hell, knowing that I’ll never see my baby again, but if I don’t go, then I’m not going to survive. So you two need to decide what’s worse. Me leaving, or me dying.”

“We’ll do what we can.” Bressie says firmly. “But I’m holding you to what you said. If we can get you out of here, then you’re going to have to live with Zayn and Liam, or me again, and you have to actually try at therapy. Even while you’re still here.”

“Fine.” Niall agrees. “But work fast please. I’m going to lose it if I have to stay here any longer than necessary. And don’t leave me alone with him anymore. Zee, I know you need to stay with Liam, so, um – Bress, could you stay here with me?”

“Sure.” Bressie nods. “I’ll tell Harry that you need to be under my constant supervision after all of this. It shouldn’t take much convincing, even with the history between me and him.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out.

 

“I fucking hate not having a door.” Niall grumbles, tugging a jumper over his head.

“Well, I don’t think he’s going to put one on for you after the last time.” Bressie chuckles from the bed. He’s lazy in the mornings, choosing to stay tucked under the duvet for as long as possible before he gets up and actually does anything. Niall doesn’t mind though. Harry generally doesn’t come anywhere near Niall’s room as long as he’s in there with Bressie, and that makes his mornings much more bearable.

“He could have at least left the one to the bathroom on. It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t have to wear a towel to change my pants.” Niall huffs.

“Um, you don’t. Everyone in this house is a bloke, and we’ve all seen it before.” Bressie points out, raising a blush on Niall’s cheeks. “Gotten pretty well acquainted with it too, for two of us.”

“Noah’s never seen me naked.” Niall mumbles.

“He’s your son. You never took a shower with him or anything?” Bressie asks.

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I’m – I’m not his biological father, you know?”

“Yeah.” Bressie nods. “Your point is?”

“You know how people are about the whole ‘gay thing’.” Niall sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Especially when gay people are parents. All it takes is Noah saying ‘I saw Papa’s willy’, and all hell could have broken loose for me. Even just the insinuation would have been enough for some people to misinterpret, and I could have lost my son and my medical license.”

“So you’ve always been paranoid.” Bressie hums.

“It comes with marrying a crime-lord.” Niall mutters. “I had to plan for every possibility. I didn’t used to be like this. I used to plan ahead, yeah, but I wasn’t this bad. I didn’t have a list of countries that don’t extradite to the UK memorized. I didn’t keep thirty percent of my earnings in cash for an easy getaway, and two million pounds in a Swiss bank account under an alias. I didn’t have fake passports and IDs. Living with the Cheshire Cat presented certain challenges, and Harry was never any good at planning ahead like that.”

“Jesus.” Bressie breathes out. “Is that all true?”

“Yeah.” Niall confirms. “I even learned to speak a bit of French, Spanish, and Japanese, so that we’d have several choices on where to go. I was prepared for anything. I could have handled becoming a fugitive. I would have gladly done it for him without any hesitation. The only thing that I didn’t see coming was him leaving me. There – There was no strategy for that. I spent all my time making all of these plans for our life, escape plans, educational plans for Noah, plans about my career, and – And none of it mattered. It never mattered. I never mattered.”

“You did matter, Niall. You still do.” Bressie says softly, grabbing Niall by the arm and pulling him into a hug just as he begins to cry. He clings tightly to Bressie, falling back down until they’re a tangled mess in the sheets and he’s so entwined with the older man that he doesn’t really know whose limbs are whose.

It’s only the second time that anyone other than Zayn or Noah has held him in over a year, and it feels good. He actually feels safe again, unlike he did that night with Harry. Safe, because he knows that Bressie isn’t going to hurt him. Bressie isn’t going to walk away when Niall is this vulnerable. Bressie honestly wants Niall to get better, and he’s trying to help, so, for the first time in ages, Niall lets himself be vulnerable.

“Niall, Noah is about to – Oh!” Harry yelps, shocking Niall and Bressie apart on the bed. Harry is backed up against the wall opposite from Niall’s non-existent door, looking anywhere except into the room with a bright red stained across his face. “I, uh – Noah’s about to get picked up by the car pool. If you want to see him before he leaves for school, you’ll need to come downstairs now.”

“I’ll, uh – I think I’ll skip it today.” Niall mumbles. “Tell him I said that I love him, and to have fun.”

“Okay.” Harry says, his voice choked-off and pitchy before he races away.

“Well I could have done without that.” Niall sighs. “I don’t have a good feeling about how today is going to go.”

“It’ll be fine.” Bressie assures him. “He can’t possibly believe that we were doing anything inappropriate. You’re fully dressed, we have no door, and I’m your therapist. I think he just wasn’t was expecting it. He’s been trying to respect your privacy so far.”

“True.” Niall says quietly. “Hurry up and get dressed. I don’t fancy going down there alone, now that Noah’s gone.”

“I’ll just be a mo’.” Bressie nods, dislodging himself from the covers and climbing out of the bed. Bressie has none of the same reservations that Niall does about anyone seeing him, which is the same way he’d been at Niall’s flat, and quickly sheds his pants and trousers before rooting through the drawers on the side of the dresser he’s been using since he moved in. In a way, he’s right about having slept together taking the awkwardness away from seeing one another naked, but Niall still averts his eyes until he hears Bressie say, “Let’s go. I need some coffee.”

“Now you’re speaking my language.” Niall grins, hopping off of the bed. Normally he likes to do it up again before he heads down for breakfast, but he doesn’t want Harry thinking that they were doing anything because of how long they’ve been taking. He doesn’t care anymore if Harry thinks that he’s seeing somebody, but Harry believing that that somebody is Bressie could cause complications. Niall really doesn’t need any more complications in his life right now.

“You know, just about the only thing about this place that I’m going to miss is that coffee maker.” Bressie hums, stepping out through the doorway. “Yours is for shit compared to that thing.”

“Ugh, I know.” Niall groans following after him. “Harry had it imported from Italy for our third wedding anniversary. It cost two-thousand pounds, and I don’t regret it at all.”

“Jesus!” Bressie barks out in a laugh. “Two-thousand pounds?”

“We had the money.” Niall shrugs it off, heading down the stairs. “And I have a deep and unwavering love for coffee. It’s the only stable thing in my life sometimes. I blame Zayn for the addiction though. He’s the one who got me drinking it. Or maybe I should blame medical school, since I always needed it to make it through my all-nighters.”

“I miss being young, but – Shit – I really don’t miss med-school.” Bressie chuckles. “Those late nights were killers. And cadavers. Ugh! I hated cadavers. I always got the ones with the creepy eyes.”

“They all had creepy eyes.” Niall snorts. “They were dead.”

“Whatever.” Bressie scoffs, walking into the kitchen first. “You know what I meant. I always got the ones who had tache noir.”

“Blech!” Niall giggles. “Tache noir always got me too. I’m not squeamish, but there’s just-”

“Something about it.” Bressie finishes for him. “I know. It freaks me out. Reminds me of-”

“Zombie movies.” Niall grins, returning the favor.

“Yes!” Bressie laughs. “I was always afraid that they were going to come off the table and try to take a chunk out of me.”

“We’ve all been there.” Niall smiles, turning on the coffee maker. “Except Zayn. Nothing bothered him when it came to cadavers.”

“So you’ve told me.” Bressie snorts, nudging Niall with his elbow. “That is still the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard. Who has sex in a morgue?”

“Just me and Zayn.” Niall smirks. “I hope.”

“Hey, where’s Harry?” Bressie asks, drawing Niall’s attention to the fact that his ex isn’t skulking around as usual, watching him like a hawk.

“No idea. Probably the gym upstairs. He’s been at it a lot lately.” Niall shrugs. “Can’t say I’m not happy for the reprieve though. It’s been ages since I’ve been in here without someone watching over me like I’m going to grab one of the knives out of the block and shove it into my aorta every time I’m on that side of the kitchen.”

“Can you blame him?” Bressie asks quietly.

“No.” Niall admits. “But it’s still nice not being scrutinized for once.”

“I suppose it would be.” Bressie nods, grabbing two cups out of the cabinet. “You’ve broken a lot of people’s trust though, Niall. It’s going to take some time to earn that back from them.”

“Does that mean that you still trust me?” Niall asks.

“I’ve worked with a lot of depressed patients in my career. I know that a major part of what’s going on with you is the illness. I can’t blame you for that.” Bressie explains. “I’ve seen you make some real progress over the last few days. I know that you’re trying, and that means a lot. I’m not saying that I don’t worry about you still, but I have a lot of hope about how things are going.”

“That was a really overwrought way of saying ‘no’.” Niall scoffs, pouring Bressie’s coffee. “I know therapy speak by now, Bress. I know when you’re trying to avoid saying something that could be detrimental to my recovery by complimenting me instead. Remember who you’re talking to here. At least pay me the respect of direct answers.”

“Then, no, I don’t trust you yet.” Bressie admits. “But I’m less worried than I was before about what you might do if left alone.”

“Progress.” Niall says dryly, passing over Bressie’s coffee with one hand and giving a halfhearted jazz-hand with the other.

“It is.” Bressie insists, taking the cup with a grateful smile. “I know that’s hard to see, Niall. I do. It really is progress though.”

“It’s fine.” Niall mutters, turning back to make his own coffee. “You don’t trust me, and I don’t forgive you. It’s hardly surprising after all of this.”

“Hopefully we’ll both earn that from the other as time goes on.” Bressie mumbles.

“Hopefully.” Niall echoes.

 

“One more lap. I know that you can do it.” Zayn says sternly.

“How about you get your arse in here and do it!” Niall wheezes, clinging to the side of the pool. “I’m fucking recovering from two major surgeries here, you dick.”

“Which is exactly why you’re doing this.” Zayn counters, sitting on the edge and sticking his legs in the water. “I’ve worked it all out with a physio, and this is what we settled on having you do. You had a lobectomy, Nialler. And I hate to say it, but it wasn’t my best work. I’m a neurosurgeon, not a cardiothoracic surgeon. Exercise is important if you want to get full function back in your lung. Harry has a home gym and an indoor pool. We might as well make the most of it while you’re here.”

“My chest feels like it’s on fire.” Niall admits. “Can’t this be enough for today?”

“Do you really think that you can’t do even one more lap?” Zayn asks seriously. “Because if you can’t, then we can stop. Pushing yourself is the only way that you’re going to get better though, Nialler.”

“Remind me why you didn’t become an orthopedist again?” Niall sighs. “I bet resetting dislocated bones would have been like Disneyland for you. You love to watch people suffer.”

“Only you.” Zayn smirks. “Stop stalling and do the last lap. It’s only thirty meters there and back.”

“Thirty-two.” Niall grumbles before pushing away from the wall. He’s been doing backstroke so that he doesn’t have to add the pressure of holding his breath onto the already grueling exercises. It still feels like hell. By the time he reaches the opposite side a couple minutes later, his chest is getting tight and the touch of the tile against his hand is like a godsend. He does his kick-flip, submerging himself and twisting until he’s on his back again and heading towards Zayn. His vision is going spotty by the time he reaches Zayn again, but he can’t help but feel a bit proud of himself. He’s done ten laps, and while that isn’t setting any records, it’s still an accomplishment, seeing as he hasn’t done much of anything since he got to Harry’s except sulk. “Done. Fuck you.”

“That’s my boy.” Zayn grins, patting Niall on the head and ignoring his scowl. Niall is too weak to bat Zayn’s hand away, but he does flip him the bird before he heads towards the stairs that’ll let him out of the pool.

His body feels like rubber once he’s no longer submerged, and he almost falls. Zayn catches him though, and sheepishly says, “Maybe that last lap wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

“What gave it away?” Niall asks sardonically, letting himself be led into a chair.

“Your funky noodle-limbs.” Zayn chuckles, dodging out of the way when Niall kicks out weakly. “How do you feel though?”

“Better.” Niall admits. “My chest feels like it’s going to explode, and my limbs are all weird, and I’m cold now, but I feel better.”

“That’s good.” Zayn says with a soft smile, pressing a kiss onto Niall’s forehead. He grabs a large towel and drapes it over Niall’s body before adding, “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you say that. I was starting to worry that you never would again.”

“Me too.” Niall murmurs nuzzling into the warmth of the towel. “How are things going with the judge?”

“Slow.” Zayn sighs. “Apparently he’s catholic, so my argument that having you here with your ex is cruel and unusual punishment isn’t doing fuck all.”

“What’s your next strategy?” Niall asks.

“I don’t have one yet, but my solicitor is working on one right now.” Zayn tells him.

“I’m so tired of the courts.” Niall mumbles. “Why can’t everything be run by robots?”

“Because then all the sleazy lawyers would have nothing to do.” Zayn hums. “And they’d become doctors instead.”

“Ew.” Niall giggles.

“‘Ew’ indeed, my good man.” Zayn says, nodding like it’s a sage piece of wisdom to live by, rather than just them arseing around.

“I want to put on some real clothes.” Niall says after a minute. “My arse is wet, and I don’t like it when it’s this cold outside.”

“Do you want me to go get Bressie to warm it up for you?” Zayn asks with a smirk.

“Shut up.” Niall scoffs. “Don’t you have a husband that you could be torturing right now instead of me?”

“We, uh – We had a fight.” Zayn says quietly.

“What about?” Niall asks.

“He wants to go back to the station.” Zayn whispers. “He nearly died, and he wants to go back. He’s not even out of the hospital bed yet.”

“And you want him to retire.” Niall guesses.

“I mean – Wouldn’t you?” Zayn asks. “Wouldn’t you want to keep someone that you love as far away from danger as possible? Especially after they almost died?”

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “I don’t think that I’d have been able to handle it if something like that had happened with Harry back in the Cheshire Cat days. I was always terrified he’d end up getting shot or something.”

“And yet you were the one to get shot.” Zayn points out. “And Liam was crushed under a burning support beam, and almost died. I can’t fucking handle you two. You’re both colossal fucking idiots who don’t think about the people you’ll leave behind if you get hurt!”

“Zee, you’re yelling.” Niall says gently, placing his hand over his friend’s.

“I bloody know I’m yelling!” Zayn snaps. “I get to yell! You got shot! Liam got hurt! You ruptured your lung! If you two keep going like this, my head is going to explode! It’s half the reason that I wanted you locked up in the loony-bin! Then I didn’t have to worry about either of you going off half-cocked and getting yourselves blown up or something!”

“It’s highly unlikely that I’d get blown up.” Niall argues. He’s not sure why. He knows that it’s not a good idea before he says it, but he does it anyways. Zayn’s eyes bug out of their sockets for a moment, and Niall trips over his words to add, “But I see what you mean and you’re completely and totally right and also very beautiful. I love you. Please don’t punch me.”

“Arse.” Zayn huffs, slumping back against the window. “It’s nice to hear that I’m right though.”

“You are.” Niall nods. “About Liam, at least. I understand where he’s coming from though. If I could have, I would have gone straight back to Haiti once I was on my feet.”

“Which is exactly why I had them ban you from reenlisting.” Zayn grumbles. “Fucking Virgos are supposed to be analytical and methodical in their decision making. You two don’t fit that at all.”

“That’s because horoscopes are bullshit.” Niall snorts.

“Whatever.” Zayn waves him off. “I need to get back to the hospital. Do you need any help up?”

“No.” Niall says, tightening the towel around his shoulders before he forces himself up. The effort is taxing, but Niall manages to stand without any real problems. “I need to exercise, remember?”

“Just checking.” Zayn hums. “Tomorrow we’ll do this again.”

“You keep saying ‘we’, but all your arse did was sit there and watch.” Niall grumbles.

“I have to be ready to dive in if you’re drowning.” Zayn points out.

“That doesn’t mean that you get to include yourself as having done anything.” Niall mutters, pushing his trunks down and off before wrapping the towel around his hips. He slings the soaking trunks over a towel rod, and adds, “Remind me to bring a change of clothes down here tomorrow. I’ll catch cold if I have to keep walking all the way upstairs to put on something dry.”

“The pool and house are both heated.” Zayn scoffs. “Stop being such a little bitch.”

“Remind me to hit you tomorrow too.” Niall huffs, walking carefully to avoid slipping with his wet feet. There’s a mat by the door, but not before then, and he’s almost certain that he’s going to die every time he takes a step. Zayn keeps him on his feet, despite the fact that Niall definitely still wants to hit him, and gets him inside the house proper without any major injuries.

“Have you got the rest, or do you need me to get you up the stairs?” Zayn asks.

“Nah, I have the banister for that.” Niall waves him off. “Don’t suppose I could bum a fag off of you though, could I?”

“You have half a lung.” Zayn points out, chastising Niall with a flick to his ear. “And I’ve seen the inside of that lung. I think your smoking days are over. Mine definitely are.”

“Zayn Malik gave up cigarettes?” Niall gasps. “But – But I haven’t heard anything about Hell freezing over.”

“Yeah, well after I saw the inside of your lung, and realized that I smoke more than you do, I decided that it was probably best to give up the habit. Can’t very well complain about you and Liam killing yourselves when I’m doing it too, now can I?” Zayn says with a small smile. “I’m on the last level of patches now.”

“Good for you.” Niall grins. “Was my lung really that bad?”

“Not as bad as the ones they showed us in med-school, but it wasn’t good, Nialler.” Zayn says gently. “You’d do yourself some good to never touch another fag.”

“Now you want me to quit smoking and go celibate?” Niall laughs.

“You’re such a shit.” Zayn snorts, pulling Niall into a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Behave yourself. Unless it’s with Bressie. Then you have my permission to be badly behaved. You know, as long as you’re careful about it and don’t hurt your lung.”

“Shut up.” Niall scoffs, pushing Zayn away.

“I’m just saying.” Zayn shrugs. “You should be in decent enough shape to have sex if you’re safe about it. Don’t like, have him hold you down, or get too into spanking, or anything like that. I also wouldn’t recommend giving head until your lungs adjust a bit more to their capacity, or you’ll end up coming up for air so much it’ll give him blue-balls.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Niall says dryly.

“Good.” Zayn grins. “Have a good night, Nialler.”

“You too, Zee.” Niall says with a roll of his eyes, heading up the stairs with one hand on the rail, and one hand on his towel. Not for the first time, especially since his surgery, he curses Harry out under his breath for falling in love with the impractical spiral staircase. It means he has to take twice as many steps, and he’s exhausted by the time that he reaches the landing. Stupid Harry and his stairs. Stupid Zayn and his exercises. Stupid everybody and everything.

He lets his towel fall away when he reaches the dresser, unconcerned about being seen since Bressie isn’t in the room, and Harry is helping Noah with homework. He rummages around for pants and socks, setting them to the side while he looks for a pair of joggers and a t-shirt to fall asleep in. It’s not really late enough for him to go to sleep, but he has a feeling that he’s going to be dead to the world for a good while with the way his limbs feel like lead.

“Knock-knock.” someone says from the door, and Niall nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns around to find Harry, who at least has the decency to look a bit sheepish when he says, “Noah wanted to know if you wanted to join us for movie night. We’re doing a Disney double-feature. Aladdin and The Good Dinosaur.”

“I don’t know.” Niall mumbles, picking up his towel and wrapping it back around his waist.

“Bressie has already agreed to join us, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Harry tells him.

“No. That’s not it.” Niall sighs. “I just – I’ll come, as long as you don’t mind me falling asleep on the couch tonight. There’s no way that I’m making it both up and down that staircase again tonight. Zayn is the world’s most demanding physio.”

“How’d it go?” Harry asks.

“I managed ten laps.” Niall tells him. “It’s not that much, but-”

“It’s great!” Harry beams. “Bressie told me that he only thought you’d make it about three with your lung being the way it is.”

“Well he can suck it.” Niall smirks, punching the air a bit in victory.

“Is that – Jesus, is that from the surgery?” Harry asks, his eyes going wide when they find Niall’s scar.

“This part is.” Niall explains, using his finger to follow the long, curved line from the thoracotomy that Zayn had performed. The skin is hard and puckered, taunting almost, with the way that the entry and exit wounds that hover right above the edges make it look like a gruesome, pink smiley face. “These are from the bullet.”

“I didn’t realize the scars would be so big.” Harry murmurs, crossing the space between them and taking a closer look. “Why is it so thick?”

“Well Zayn didn’t exactly have the best working conditions when he cut out a chunk of my lung.” Niall sighs. “And when they reopened me to fix my lung after the rupture, it agitated the tissue and made it harden.”

“It’s worse than the one on your knee.” Harry says quietly.

“I’ve learned to live with it.” Niall shrugs. “It makes it a bit hard to raise my arm up too much, but other than that, it’s just an eyesore. It’s not really that painful most of the time.”

“Can I?” Harry asks, reaching his fingers up until he’s just shy of pressing them against the skin.

“I’d actually like to get dressed now.” Niall says, moving back a bit before Harry can make contact. Niall is almost positive that he’d burst into flames if that happened. “I’m a bit cold, standing here naked and wet and all.”

“Oh. Of course. Sorry.” Harry mumbles, backpedaling quickly until he’s back in the doorway. “I’ll put some extra pillows and blankets out on the couch for you if you still want to join us.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Niall nods, pulling his shirt over his head. It takes a bit of maneuvering, giving the way that his scar limits his mobility, but he’s gotten the hang of it by now. By the time he pops his head out of the hole, Harry has gone. Niall breathes out a deep sigh of relief, releasing his grip on his towel and quickly tugging on his pants. Once he’s fully dressed, he feels even more exhausted, but he manages to drag himself out of the room and back down the staircase.

Noah squeals when he enters the room, racing over and grabbing Niall’s hand to pull him along. “Sit with me and Daddy, Papa.” Noah says happily.

“Actually, bubba, I’m going to sit on the other couch with Bressie, okay?” Niall says, crouching down a bit and keeping his eyes locked firmly on his son, rather than letting them wander to either of the other men in the room. “That way, nobody is left out, yeah? You and Daddy will each have a buddy, and Bressie and I will each have a buddy too.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” Noah nods. “Then nobody will be lonely.”

“Exactly.” Niall nods. “Let’s go watch now, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Noah smiles, tugging Niall along and then pushing him down onto the couch that Bressie is occupying. He turns to Bressie and says, “Don’t let my Papa get lonely.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, little man.” Bressie chuckles, slinging an arm around Niall’s shoulder. 

Niall sighs a bit once a stormy look crosses Harry’s face while he’s popping in the film. He’s so fucking bipolar sometimes that it makes Niall’s head spin. If he didn’t really want Niall to join them, then he shouldn’t have offered. Niall could be sleeping in a bed right now.

As it is, Niall doesn’t make it through the opening credits of Aladdin before he falls asleep, tucked into Bressie’s side. Just before he goes under, it occurs to him that he just had the longest civil conversation with Harry that he’s had in over a year, and it wasn’t terrible. It also occurs to him that Harry definitely didn’t look away from Niall like he had that morning. Then the thoughts disappear into nothing just as quickly as they’d come, and he falls into a dreamless sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

“If Zayn is going to torture me, the least he can do is actually be here for it.” Niall grumbles, turning on the treadmill and starting at a slow walk.

“It’s the first day of his fellowship.” Bressie shrugs, not even bothering to look up from the weight he’s curling. Good. That means he won’t notice if Niall slacks off a bit. “Between that, the fight with that judge, and Liam’s recovery, he has a lot on his plate. Give him a break.”

“Here’s a little tip for you if you want to keep being my friend, Bress-” Niall huffs. “When I’m bitching about somebody in order to blow off steam during my incredibly difficult and painful physical therapy, don’t disagree with me. Even if I’m wrong.”

“Point taken.” Bressie chuckles. “He’s an evil bastard.”

“Now you’ve got it.” Niall grins. “But only I get to say that. You may be the size of a mountain, and I may want to strangle him until his eyes pop out, but he’s still my best friend, and I’ll punch you in the throat if you chat shit about him.”

“You’re a very confusing man.” Bressie laughs, shaking his head. “What exactly am I supposed to say while you bitch about him then? For future reference.”

“Just agree with me in a way that sounds like you’re listening, even if you aren’t.” Niall tells him.

“Oh god, it’s like living with my ex-wife all over again.” Bressie scoffs.

“Arse.” Niall snorts. “How is she? You two talked lately?”

“Yeah.” Bressie nods. “Actually, we were going to go get dinner on Friday night, if that’s alright with you. I’ll stay here if you need me to though.”

“It’s fine.” Niall shrugs. “The warden has been slightly more bearable lately.”

“Is this another one of those times where I’m just supposed to agree with you and not offer my own opinion?” Bressie asks.

“Yes.” Niall says flatly.

“Alright then.” Bressie nods.

“Have I mentioned that I’m going to kill this judge?” Niall asks, continuing to talk in and attempt to pull focus away from how his chest is already starting to hurt. It doesn’t always work particularly well, since Zayn and Bressie aren’t particularly great conversationalists, but it’s basically all that he has to distract himself with during these sessions.

“Once or twice over the last six weeks, yeah.” Bressie chuckles. “Maybe a couple hundred times.”

“I’m going stir-crazy in this fucking house.” Niall mutters. “I haven’t been outside in weeks. Like – I really fucking hate winter, but I’m about to go jump into some snow in the courtyard just to be outside.”

“I suppose that there’s no reason that you couldn’t go outside for a few minutes.” Bressie hums. “As long as you’re careful. Having just half a lung makes pneumonia much more dangerous for you.”

“I know!” Niall groans. “I’m a doctor too, you twat.”

“I’m well aware.” Bressie laughs. “And as a doctor, you know that it’s our job to say things to people that they may already know, just to remind them about things that could have detrimental effect on their health. I haven’t forgotten who you are, Niall. And I definitely don’t discount your intelligence.”

“It feels like everyone’s been discounting me lately.” Niall mumbles.

“I haven’t.” Bressie says gently, finally looking up from his workout and turning towards Niall. “Zayn and I are both stunned by your progress. And I know that you don’t want to hear it, but Harry is too. And Noah thinks the sun shines out of your arse. You may feel like we’ve been discounting you, Niall, but the truth is that the only person who doesn’t see you as being brilliant and strong and just bloody amazing is you.”

“And yet, here I am!” Niall snaps. “You can say all the nice, caring, therapeutic shit that you like, Bressie! It doesn’t change the facts of what you three did to me! It doesn’t change the fact that I lost a dream job and a chance to finally get some fucking peace, because you three had me committed! It doesn’t change the fact that my entire life is shit now!”

“Calm down and concentrate on what you’re doing.” Bressie says softly, crossing the room in just a few strides when Niall starts wheezing. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you lose focus completely.”

Niall slams his finger into the stop button, sliding backwards off of the treadmill and slumping back against the wall just to keep upright. His chest is tight, like a band is squeezing him from the inside. He’s gasping, but he isn’t getting any air. It’s been so long since it’s happened, but Niall still recognizes the sensation easily enough. It’s a panic attack.

“I – I can’t – I – Can’t breathe!” Niall wheezes raggedly, tugging at the constricting material of his shirt until he gets it off over his head.

“Look at me.” Bressie orders, tilting Niall’s face up with both of his hands, and pressing their foreheads together. “Just focus on me. Put your hands on my chest, and feel how I breathe. Follow that.”

Niall’s fingers curl into the fabric of Bressie’s vest and his eyes lock with the older man’s, following the instructions as best as he can. It takes a few minutes for his breathing to even out and match the calm, easy pace that Bressie is setting, but it does eventually happen. “Thank you.” Niall whispers once he finds his voice again.

“No problem. It’s what I do.” Bressie says softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Niall admits. “I am now. I haven’t had a panic attack in years. Especially without a trigger.”

“Your entire life is a trigger right now.” Bressie points out.

“It’s not all shit, I guess.” Niall murmurs, the skin of his cheeks starting to heat up under the palms of Bressie’s hands and his fingers curling tighter into Bressie’s shirt. He can feel every breath Bressie takes, not only under his hands, but fluttering across his lips as well, and becomes distinctly aware of his own tongue flicking out over them when Bressie’s eyes flick down towards it for a moment. “There’s one or two things that I don’t mind so much. Might even say they’re good.”

“Are you two done in here?” asks a flat voice from the door.

“Oh – I – Uh–” Niall stammers, snapping away from Bressie and flattening himself against the wall. 

Harry’s face is expressionless in a way that Niall has never seen in all the years that they’ve known each other when he ignores Niall’s stuttering and says, “The schedule on the fridge says that today is a pool day.”

“I wanted to get in a workout too while Niall was doing his physio.” Bressie explains. “In the pool, I might not notice right away if something had happened to him. Up here I can watch him and do my own thing at the same time. I didn’t realize that it was a problem. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s not a problem.” Harry says, his voice completely neutral like his face. “I just prefer not to have anyone around when I start up on the bag. I can wait until you’re done. I just need to know if you are.”

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “I am. I don’t know about Bress, but I’m done for the day.”

“I’m fine.” Bressie says quickly. “Gym’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” Harry mutters, walking over towards the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling on the other side of the room.

Bressie is the first to move, walking out casually while Harry slips his already wrapped hands into his gloves. Niall gets it. Act like nothing is awkward, and maybe that’ll diffuse the tension. That’s not how it works with Harry though. With Harry, it’ll fester and rot until it explodes, and nobody is immune when that happens. It’ll go everywhere, and get on everyone, and Niall isn’t strong enough right now to break up another fight between Harry and Bressie if they start one.

He’s about to say something, but the first smack of Harry’s glove against the bag echoes through the room like a gunshot, and Niall’s breath hitches in his throat while he drops straight to the ground. His mind flashes back to Haiti, the flash of the muzzle, Zayn’s scream, the slick warmth of his own blood on his hands.

He distantly hears Bressie’s voice asking what happened, feels the intimately familiar sensation of Harry’s hands encapsulating his own, but he can’t see anything other than the fresh wound gaping in his chest. He’s stuck in the moment, playing it over and over again, until Harry’s voice breaks through with a whimpered, “Niall – Please come back. Please.”

Coming out of the memory is like surfacing from the bottom of the ocean. His body convulses with a gasp that feels like it’s going to make his lung rupture again. He’s held back tight against Bressie’s chest, and he can just barely make out Harry’s face crouching next to him through the tears that have flooded his eyes. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god – What’s happening to him?” Harry asks desperately.

“I’m alright.” Niall rasps out.

“You bloody well are not ‘alright’!” Harry hisses.

“Give me some space.” Niall grunts out, twisting himself away from both of them and staggering to his feet.

“Niall – You really need to-” Bressie starts, his ‘I’m a very serious therapist and you need to listen to me now’ voice coming out. Unfortunately for him, Niall doesn’t give a shit right now.

“I said give me some fucking space!” Niall snaps, stumbling towards the door. “Both of you just need to give me a fucking minute! Christ!”

“Niall! Wait! Please-” Harry calls out after him, but Niall is already gone. 

He can still feel the blood on his hands when he grips the rails, but they don’t don’t slip as he rushes down the stairs, again mentally cursing Harry for these stupid fucking spiral-staircases. He heads into his room, but only to grab the jumper that’s laid out on his bed for after his workout. He moves quickly, pulling it on over his head as he runs back out through the non-existent door.

He doesn’t hear either of the other two coming after him, but he moves as quickly as he can anyways, never giving his heart a chance to slow down in his chest. He knows that it isn’t a good plan, but the only thing he can think of is getting some fresh air. He heads towards the closest doors to the courtyard, and throws them open, flying out through them and stumbling through the piled up snow until he’s falling to his knees in the middle of it.

His lungs feel like they’re filling for the first time in weeks, even though the air is cold and thin, and the way that the falling snowflakes sting at the back of his throat feels almost like a relief. His hands bury themselves in the snow that’s so rare in London, the icy pain biting into his fingers and grounding him to the moment in a beautifully excruciating way. It feels like the first real thing to happen since the morning that he woke up in the hospital with Louis fussing over him.

His joggers are soaking through, and his fingers are going numb, and then there’s a sudden thump against his back that hits right on the exit wound from the bullet. It doesn’t hurt, but it does scare the crap out of him, and he falls face forward into the snow with a yelp. He pushes himself back up, ready to yell at someone for fucking with him now of all times, but Noah’s delighted giggle rings throughout the courtyard as another clump of snow smacks Niall in the bum, and it sounds like a hymn. Like Niall’s saving grace.

He turns around to find Noah beaming from ear to ear, packing another tiny snowball between his mitten-clad hands. At least he’s bundled up. He must have seen Niall from the table where he was doing his homework, and put on all of his winter-wear to come play. “I’m going to get you for that!” Niall growls playfully, only to be pelted in the chest by Noah’s most recent creation.

“Nuh-uh, Papa!” Noah laughs gleefully, already reaching for his fourth handful of snow. Niall manages to scramble to his feet before Noah can do anything with it. He rushes forward, and Noah takes off running, his elated shriek echoing off of the walls of the courtyard so that it feels like it’s surrounding Niall like a blanket.

He chases after Noah in circles around the courtyard, the boy slipping just out of his grasp multiple times, all the while laughing in a way that he can’t remember doing in years. He’s actually having fun. That is, until Harry’s voice sounds out with a harsh, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? Not even taking into consideration that Noah should be doing his homework right now, you have half a lung, Niall! You’re not even dressed properly to be-”

He’s cut off by a snowball colliding right with his forehead. Everything freezes for just a minute, the world seeming to move in slow motion as everyone realizes that it really just happened, and then it explodes all at once. Noah squeals and takes off again, the leftover remnants of the weapon he’d used against his father flying in the air behind him while he runs. Niall busts out in a cackle that hurts almost as much as it feels good, and he follows after Noah’s example and runs from an incredulous looking Harry.

It only takes Harry a moment to recover, and he ducks down and grabs fistfuls of snow, pounding them together while he starts chasing after them. Niall notices it over his shoulder, so he looks down at Noah with a devious grins and says, “Split up!”

Noah takes the instruction with mischievous glee, sprinting as fast as his little legs will carry him in the opposite direction from Niall so that they’re running along the edges of the walls, and Harry can’t possibly get them both at once. Harry ends up choosing to go after Noah, taking advantage of his long stride to catch up to the boy faster than he can with Niall, despite the older man’s injuries. Niall is nothing if not self-sacrificial though, and tosses a hastily-made snowball at Harry before he can dump his handfuls of snow over Noah’s head where he has him cornered against the wall.

Noah shrieks with laughter and starts running again while Harry turns on Niall with a vengeful glare. Niall giggles and runs in the opposite direction from where Noah is going, forcing Harry to choose between targets again. Of course Harry chooses him this time, needing justice for Niall’s unprovoked attack, and chases him all the way back into the courtyard.

Niall slips on a patch of ice, and windmills his arms in a vain attempt to keep upright, before ultimately succumbing to gravity and face-planting in a snowbank. He rolls over just in time to catch the handful of snow that Harry drops on his face, and screeches at the second burst of cold.

Harry doubles over laughing, and Niall takes the opportunity for revenge by tossing a handful of snow right back in his face. Harry yelps and falls onto the ground right next to Niall. They glare at each other for a moment, covered in snow, and then Harry breaks into a grin. The laughter comes naturally after that, and they both roll onto their backs, because it’s too intense to stay up during.

The heat of Harry’s arm pressing against Niall’s own is nearly overwhelming, and they slowly come down from their laughter, looking at each other again. There’s something heavy hanging in the air, something important, and Niall feels like the entire atmosphere has become electrified. There’s the barest touch of their frigid fingers against each other’s, something probing and tentative, and Niall’s heart hammers in his chest at even just the slight contact.

They don’t get a chance to see what happens next though, because they each get another faceful of snow from their giggling five year old, who must have come over while they were caught up in each other. 

“I win!” Noah laughs, turning back and running into the house, expelling whatever was in the air, and leaving Niall and Harry to rush after him, both adamantly deciding not to look at each other again.

 

“I blame you for this.” Harry huffs, curling the blanket tighter around his body.

“You’re the idiot who went outside into the snow barefoot and wearing his tiny bloody shorts.” Niall grumbles before coughing into a handful of tissues.

“Because you were being an idiot first!” Harry snaps. “Acting like you’re not recovering from having two major operations in less than two months! Like you don’t only have half of a fucking lung!”

“Stop yelling!” Niall hisses, combing his head through Noah’s fringe where he’s lying with his head in Niall’s lap. “You’re going to wake him up. He needs the rest.”

“He wouldn’t, if you hadn’t been a fucking fool.” Harry mutters. “Dragging our son into your mental breakdown – Honestly, Niall, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I didn’t ‘drag him into my mental breakdown’.” Niall mumbles. “He dragged me out of it.”

“Are you at least going to tell me what the hell happened there?” Harry asks.

“It – It was the sound.” Niall explains. “When you hit the bag, it sounded like the gunshot. I – I just – I went back. I lived through it again and again until it stopped.”

“Wait-” Harry says, sitting up quickly, and looking a bit green for the effort. “It wasn’t a panic attack?”

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “It – I think it was a post-traumatic stress episode.”

“Shit.” Harry breathes out. “Shit, Niall – I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Neither did I.” Niall admits. “I haven’t had any other episodes. I haven’t had nightmares about it. I haven’t even really thought about it that much. There’s been no signs of me having PTSD until that. Not that I noticed anyways. If Bressie did, he hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

“That’s because I hadn’t seen any signs of post-traumatic stress disorder either.” Bressie says, stepping though the entrance with three bowls of stew balanced in his arms. He sets them on the coffee table, and adds, “I know for a fact that you’ve slept through the night without any problems since you got back. Your anxiety and irritability could be attributed to the depression that you’ve been suffering from since before your deployment. And the paranoia is something that you’ve had for a while. I still should have caught it though. That’s my job. I’m a fucking trauma counselor for god’s sake.”

“It’s not like I’ve been the poster-boy for patient cooperation.” Niall says gently, catching Bressie by the elbow and turning him around so that their eyes meet. “It’s not your fault. Yesterday was the first symptom manifestation that you could have caught. We’ll work it out.”

“Can I at least get my food before you two start up on the ‘It was me’ ‘No, it was me’ thing?” Harry huffs.

“Lean forward and get it then.” Niall scoffs at him before turning back to Bressie and saying, “Don’t pay him any attention. He’s a total baby whenever he’s sick. He always has been.”

“For someone who’s only defining personality trait is being a doctor, you’ve got shit bedside manner.” Harry mutters, leaning forward and grabbing his bowl of stew without even so much as a ‘thank you’ to Bressie for making it.

“And for someone whose only legitimate job ever is being a parent, you act like an infant.” Niall fires back.

“Alright, boys-” Bressie sighs. “It’s time to tap out. Go to your corners and eat. You’re going to need energy if you want to keep being catty little cunts to each other.”

“You’re too masc to pull off bitchy, Bress.” Niall snorts.

“How’s this then? Shut up and eat, or I’ll start feeding you myself.” Bressie grins.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” Niall asks with a smirk. It takes a lot of effort not to respond to the little scoff that Harry doesn’t even try to conceal. He manages not to react though, too exhausted from the way it feels like his body is half dead to get into it again with Harry. Instead, he just takes the bowl that Bressie offers him with a grateful smile, and settles against the arm of the couch, since he can’t put the bowl in his lap with Noah still sleeping there.

“Shouldn’t you wake him up now?” Bressie asks.

“No. He didn’t sleep well last night.” Niall says gently, smiling down at the boy snoring on his leg. “He woke up in the middle of the night and came to get me, and then every time I got him to drift back off, he woke up coughing. If he’s sleeping now, I’m going to take it as a win. Might take a nap myself after I’m done eating, since I didn’t get much sleep either.”

“Why didn’t you come get me?” Harry asks.

“Because I knew that if he was sick, then you definitely were.” Niall shrugs. “With your immune system, and the way you were dressed, you were going to need all the rest you could get.”

“You’re sick too.” Harry points out, as if the way that Niall’s chest is congested and his body is still freezing under three layers of clothes isn’t enough evidence for him to come to that conclusion all on his own.

“I handle being sick better than you two do.” Niall chuckles. “Remember that flu a couple years back? The one that Noah brought home from a play-date and gave to you, and then you gave to me two days later?”

“I remember being force-fed cough-syrup and about five hundred liters of chicken soup, orange juice, and water.” Harry hums. “And I remember a rubbish bin that I spent a week with my head inside.”

“And he wasn’t any better.” Niall says, fondly petting Noah’s cheek. “I spent that whole week walking between our room and his to make sure that you two were as comfortable as possible, or cooking, or cleaning those rubbish bins. Taking care of sick people is kind of my specialty. I can push through being ill when somebody needs me to take care of them. It actually makes it easier to deal with, since I can’t focus on my own stuff.”

“I thought that Zayn came over and helped you.” Harry says quietly.

“Zayn wasn’t coming anywhere near the three of us when we were sick.” Niall snorts. “He wasn’t going to miss a week of O.R. time. Especially as a resident. The second he even hears the word ‘flu’, he bolts in the other direction. When I told him that you two had caught it, he said that I should put you both in quarantine and let some nurses handle it before I got sick too. I just told you that he came over to help so that you didn’t try to get up and do anything, when what you really needed to do was rest.”

Harry looks like he’s about to say something else, but just turns back to his bowl and spoons in a mouthful of stew instead. Niall is just fine with that. It means that he can focus on eating too. He eats a spoonful, and moans around the utensil. 

“’S brilliant, Bress.” Niall mumbles. “Best thing I’ve had in ages.”

“It’s the same recipe I made at your place.” Bressie smiles. “I’m going to pop around to the shops to restock the food and get some sick-people supplies. Will you be alright while I’m gone?”

“Yes.” Harry says flatly before Niall can speak.

Niall rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah. Don’t take too long though.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Bressie says with a gentle smile, pushing Niall’s fringe away from where it’s sticking to the sweat on his forehead and thumbing across the chilled skin. “Behave yourself while I’m gone, yeah?”

“Fine, but all bets are off when you get back.” Niall returns with a sly smirk.

“I’m sure I’ll find some way to handle that.” Bressie chuckles. “Call me if you need anything at all.”

“Will do.” Niall nods. “Now get out of here. We really need more tissues. And something for my sore throat would be aces. It’s a bit rough back there, and, you know – I’d like it not to be. Makes certain things unpleasant.”

Bressie hums in response and walks out of the entryway, leaving Niall to go back to his stew. Before he can even get the spoon to his mouth though, he hears something slam onto the coffee table. By the time he turns to look, Harry has already laid back down and rolled over to face the back of the couch with the blanket most of the way over his head. His bowl is also still practically full.

Niall doesn’t say anything though. He doesn’t know what Harry is pouting about, since literally the tiniest things can set him off when he’s sick, but Niall’s certainly not in the mood to fight about it. So he eats in relative silence, the only sounds being Noah’s snoring, and Harry’s accompanying ones that start up after about a half an hour. They’re comforting, familiar, and the sounds lull Niall to sleep not long after.

 

“I leave you alone for one day.” Zayn sighs. “And you go and develop PTSD, catch a cold after a moronic adventure in the snow, and kill an entire forest worth of trees with all these tissues.”

“Yeah, well it’s all your fault.” Niall grumbles underneath the mask that Zayn is forcing him to wear. It makes it next to impossible to breathe, but Niall is actually grateful for it. It means that Zayn won’t go spreading this fucking cold around the hospital. “If you’d just hurry up with my case-”

“That is so not in my control.” Zayn cuts him off. “And I’m paying a solicitor thousands of pounds a week just to try and get this taken care of while also juggling my belligerent ox of a husband and a fellowship. Bite me.”

“You know that I’ll pay you back once I have access to my accounts.” Niall huffs. “Not that I should, considering that you’re the reason that this is even a problem. If you hadn’t had Harry commit me, then none of this would be happening.”

“If I hadn’t had Harry commit you, you might have killed yourself by now.” Zayn counters.

“Why are you even here?” Niall asks grumpily. “We both know that you can’t risk getting sick right now. Not with a new fellowship and Liam’s immune system being compromised while his body is still trying to heal.”

“You had a PTSD episode, Nialler. Of course I came.” Zayn says softly.

“I’m fine.” Niall mutters. “It wasn’t even that bad. I didn’t get violent or anything. Apparently I just fell over and cried while I was in it, according to Bress.”

“You’re a fucking idiot sometimes.” Zayn groans. “There’s no such thing as a ‘not that bad’ PTSD episode.”

“I’ve barely even thought about that whole thing, Zee.” Niall argues.

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!” Zayn snaps. “Who the fuck gets shot, and doesn’t think about it?”

“I’ve had a few other things on my plate, if you hadn’t noticed.” Niall scoffs.

“Yeah, and one of them was getting fucking shot!” Zayn growls. “Why are you ignoring that?”

“I’m not ignoring it.” Niall mutters. “I’m just not dwelling on it. What’s the point?”

“The point is that you were fucking shot.” Zayn says incredulously. “How is that not something that you’ve spent time thinking about?”

“Because I don’t want to.” Niall shrugs. “It won’t change anything. I’ll still have been shot. I’ll still have half of a lung. What good does it do me to sit here and think about it?”

“Obviously you need to work through what happened, Niall.” Zayn says gently. “You’ve got PTSD, and it’s not just going to go away.”

“I’ve only been triggered once, Zayn.” Niall mumbles. “We don’t even know for sure that it’s-”

“Don’t pull that with me.” Zayn cuts him off. “You know as well as I do that this is PTSD. Bressie may not have had a chance to sit down with you and do a full session about this yet, but we both know what his diagnosis will be. And it’s the right one. You’re depressed, and you have PTSD, and that’s going to take a lot of time and effort to work through until you can lead a normal life. You can’t just ignore it and hope that it all goes away.”

“You’re right.” Niall sighs, leaning back against his pillow. “Fuck you for it though.”

“Stop whinging.” Zayn chuckles. “I’m always right, and you know it.”

“I have so many stories that I could bring up which would prove otherwise.” Niall snorts.

“Anything that happened before we graduated doesn’t count.” Zayn huffs. “I was being influenced too much by Tommo.”

“Fair point.” Niall laughs. “Ugh, I miss those days so much more now, back before Harry. It was all so much simpler back then.”

“For you, maybe.” Zayn scoffs. “Not so much for me. I was still fucking pining after you. Not a proud time for me.”

“And now look at us. I’m divorced and insane, and your husband is in the hospital and has a death-wish.” Niall points out. “Times aren’t much better.”

“You’re not insane.” Zayn says with a soft laugh. “And Liam doesn’t have a death wish. We all just want to help people. It just so happens that his way of doing that led to him almost being killed.”

“You’re sounding much less angry over the whole thing.” Niall says curiously.

“They, um – They offered Liam a promotion.” Zayn tells him. “They want him to be a Fire Safety Officer, which means that he’d come off of the front lines. He told me that he’ll take it, if that’s what I want him to do.”

“Do you?” Niall asks.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Zayn admits. “I know that it would kill him to stop working at the station. I don’t want him to get hurt again, but I also want him to be happy. I don’t know if he could be happy inspecting buildings to see if they fit codes. But he’d have normal hours, and he’d be safe, and he’d still be helping people.”

“Just not in a way that he can see and feel.” Niall says quietly.

“Exactly.” Zayn nods. “I have time to figure it out though. He’s going to be recovering for months from the hack-job that you did on him, and the position is being held for him until he’s ready.”

“Hack-job?” Niall squeaks out angrily. “Fuck you! That was some of my best work ever! He had five compromised organs, a partially collapsed airway, multiple broken bones, and second degree burns on half of his stomach and chest! Nobody else in this fucking country could have done a better job than I did! I did his fucking splenectomy in under a minute!”

“A little full of yourself, aren’t you?” Zayn smirks.

“You wouldn’t know this, Zee-” Niall scoffs. “But you get to be full of yourself when you’re the best.”

“I graduated first in our class.” Zayn points out.

“And I’ve been ten steps ahead of you since then, you arse.” Niall counters. 

“Bitch.” Zayn fires back with a smug grin.

“Cunt.” Niall laughs.

“God, I’ve missed you.” Zayn says, leaning over and ruffling Niall’s hair. “It’s nice to see you like this again. Makes me hopeful that you’ll really get better.”

“I will.” Niall insists. “You don’t need to hope, because it is going to happen. Without a doubt.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” Zayn smiles. “Now go to sleep. I’ll come back and see you when I can.”

“And I’m sure you just won’t be available until after I’m not sick anymore.” Niall scoffs.

“Of course not.” Zayn grins.

“Remind me why you’re my best friend again?” Niall snorts.

“Because I love you, even when you don’t love yourself.” Zayn says gently, folding the blanket over Niall. “And even when we’re mad at each other, we’ll always come back together. You’re my brother, Nialler.”

“Get out of here, you soppy git.” Niall chuckles, waving Zayn away and dropping his mask on the bedside table. “Go be a real doctor. And give Liam a kiss for me.”

“I’ll make it a snog, just for luck.” Zayn hums, walking to the door, and turning out the light.

Despite the fact that he’s exhausted, he can’t actually fall asleep. Apparently, neither can Noah. He comes in to get Niall around an hour after Zayn has left, crying and in desperate need of a good cuddle, and they fall asleep together in his bed. It’s the best sleep that Niall has had in ages.

 

Niall wakes up slowly, and annoyingly warm. Too warm. At first, he blames it on the multiple layers of clothing that he’s wearing. But then he actually focuses a bit more, and feels the press of not one, but two bodies against him. The smaller warmth on his left side, he remembers as being Noah. The one on his right is unexpected.

“Bress, shove off.” Niall slurs out, still far too tired to even contemplate opening his eyes. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in the other guest room so that you don’t get sick too.”

“Five more minutes.” the body on his right mumbles into his neck, and Niall’s eyes snap open, because that’s definitely not Bressie. That’s not Bressie’s arm holding tight around his stomach, or Bressie’s legs intertwined with his, or Bressie’s hair tickling his cheek. No, the body cuddled up against him is very definitely not Bressie. It’s Harry.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Niall breathes out. He moves slowly, careful not to wake either of the other two in the bed. It’s an arduous process, not helped at all by the stiffness around his scar or the fact that he’s definitely still sick, but he eventually manages to disentangle himself from the knot of limbs and climb out of the bed without waking them.

He quickly and quietly finds a change of clothes, shucking off his sweat dampened ones. Of course, that’s exactly when Noah wakes up, coughing hard into his fist. He looks so small, so fragile, that Niall immediately goes to hold him. Harry gets there first though. He sits up and pulls Noah against his chest, immediately waking up in the way that only a parent with a sick or upset child can, leaving Niall standing awkwardly in the center of the room nearly naked.

“Oh! Niall – I – Uh-” Harry stammers.

“Have you got this?” Niall asks, turning back and pulling his joggers on quickly.

“Yeah.” Harry sighs.

“Then I’m going to go get myself some coffee.” Niall says flatly, not even waiting until he’s got his shirt on before he’s rushing out through the doorway. He heads up the stairs first, not bothering to knock on Bressie’s door when he barges in.

“What’s wrong?” Bressie asks sleepily, practically falling off of the bed when Niall shakes his shoulder. “Does anybody need to go to hospital?”

“Christ.” Niall huffs. “No. I need you to unlock the kitchen for me. I need coffee, and I need it now. Actually, I need a shot of whiskey, but it’s only half six in the morning, and I’m on meds, so coffee will have to do.”

“What’s the matter?” Bressie asks, slinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. He lifts his arms over his head and stretches, which would already be too much for Niall to handle mentally when he’s still this tired, but it also draws attention to the very prominent erection poking out through the hole in the front of his boxers.

“Jesus!” Niall yelps, turning his eyes upwards after a beat or two too long of staring at it. “Your dick!”

“Niall, you’ve seen it before.” Bressie chuckles. “More than seen it, actually. It’s only an erection. No need to freak out.”

“Just put it away.” Niall mutters, eyes still firmly locked on the ceiling.

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit.” Bressie hums, grabbing something off of the bedside table and handing over the set of keys for the house that Harry had given him when he moved in. “I need to shower.”

“Thanks.” Niall mumbles, all but sprinting out of the door. He walks down the stairs again quickly, pointedly not looking towards his room, where he can hear Harry singing quietly to Noah.

He unlocks the door, and drops the keys on the counter for Bressie to grab when he comes down. The sound of the coffee machine starting to work is cathartic, calming the static in Niall’s mind to a more manageable level. He takes some bread out of the box and drops it in the toaster before retrieving some preserves and a knife.

It hits him while he standing there, the cold metal of the knife in his hand, he could do it. He could kill himself. Nobody would know until he was too far gone to save. Harry is with Noah. Bressie is in the shower. It’s not a particularly sharp knife, could get the job done with a bit of work, but there are others in the block only a few feet away that would be better suited to the quick, clean slice he should make for maximum effect. He could grab one of those. Just a single cut to the jugular or the brachial artery, and he’d be dead in seconds.

And for the first time in over a year, the thought actually scares him. The thought of dying really and truly scares him, but not half as much as the realization that there’s actually something wrong with him. He drops the knife against the counter, backing up until he hits the island. 

“I was wondering how long you were going to take to decide.” a slow voice says behind him.

“Fuck!” Niall gasps, turning around to find Harry leaning against the doorway. “I – You – I wasn’t-”

“I know exactly what you were doing, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “I know that you were thinking that you could do it before anyone could stop you. And I know that you made the conscious decision not to.”

“I – I-” is all Niall can choke out before he bursts into tears, dropping to the floor and curling into a ball. Harry is at his side in a flash, crouching down and pulling Niall against his chest.

“You’re okay.” Harry murmurs softly in his ear, but Niall can barely hear it over the sound of himself crying. “Oh god. Fuck – Are you having another PTSD episode?”

“No.” Niall says between sobs. “I – I just – I’m so fucking scared.”

“Of what?” Harry asks, sitting down and maneuvering them both until he’s leaned up against the cabinet with Niall sitting between his legs.

“Myself.” Niall admits. “I’m scared of myself. There’s – There’s really something wrong with me. I’ve been denying it, telling myself that you three are just trying to force me to be something that I’m not anymore, but there really is something wrong with me.”

“It’s nothing that you can’t come back from, Niall.” Harry says gently.

“What if you’re wrong?” Niall asks in a whisper. “What if I really can’t get better? What if you’re all just kidding yourselves, and I’m too fucked up?”

“You’ve never been able to see yourself the way that other people see you, Ni.” Harry tells him. “You don’t see the strength that Zayn, Liam, Louis, Luke, Noah, and I all see in you. I know you can do it. There’s nothing that you’ve ever come across that you haven’t been able to do if you put your mind to it.”

Niall barely holds back the words on the tip of his tongue, barely manages to keep his ‘Except make it work with you’ behind his teeth, but he does it. The thought is fleeting, just a momentary thing, but it’s not something that Niall wants to deal with right now. He chooses to distract himself instead, asking, “How long were you watching?”

“Almost a full two minutes.” Harry says quietly. “I wanted to see what you’d do if I left you to your own devices. I would have stepped in if you started to do anything, but you just stood there and stared at it for a really long time.”

“It barely felt like any time at all.” Niall admits.

“I’m proud of you.” Harry murmurs. “I – I know that that probably doesn’t mean much, but for what it’s worth, I really am.”

“Why?” Niall scoffs, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. “God, I – I was fucking contemplating offing myself with a butter knife literally a minute ago.”

“But you chose not to.” Harry replies. “Without anyone else interfering or talking you down, you chose not to do it.”

“It’s lovely to know that the standards for me are actually set low enough below ‘not killing myself’ that that’s something that you feel you should be proud of me for.” Niall mutters, breaking the protective ring of Harry’s arms around him and getting himself some distance.

“Niall, that’s not what-” Harry sighs. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Harry?” Niall asks harshly, climbing up to his feet at the same time his walls come up around him. “In what world did you actually think that it would make me feel better for you to say that you’re ‘proud’ of me for not committing suicide?”

“I – I don’t – Fuck!” Harry hisses. “I don’t know! I don’t know what to say to you anymore, Niall! No matter what I do or say, you constantly fight me on it!”

“Then stop talking to me!” Niall snaps. “Or – here’s a crazy idea – Send me back to the hospital!”

“No.” Harry says firmly, climbing up off of the floor. “You’ve been making progress here. I’m not risking undoing that by sending you back into an environment where you’ll just be drugged into unconsciousness and restrained any time that you need to express your anger.”

“Fuck you!” Niall spits out, storming back out through the door of the kitchen and leaving Harry behind. He flinches at the sound of Harry screaming, and his breath hitches at the loud bang of Harry’s fist splintering a cabinet door, but his body never shuts down like it did the day before, and it’s the first thing all morning that Niall is actually thankful for.

 

“We thought you’d run away somehow.” Harry says quietly, leaning down and blocking out the little bit of light reaching Niall’s face from the window. “We’ve been looking for you for an hour.”

“I know.” Niall huffs. “I wanted to be alone.”

“So you crawled under a desk?” Harry asks.

“This office is the only place in this house that ever felt like mine.” Niall mutters. “This desk is the only thing that ever felt like home here for me.”

“You don’t mean that.” Harry scoffs.

“Yeah, Harry, I do.” Niall says adamantly. “This whole house was decorated by you, for your tastes. This room is the only one in which I had any say, and that’s because it was my office.”

“You picked out other things, Niall.” Harry argues.

“Name three.” Niall challenges him, crawling out from under the desk and sitting in his chair. “Go on. I dare you. Name three things in this house, outside of this office, that I picked out.”

“There’s the telly in the living room.” Harry says, holding up a finger.

“That you made me downgrade.” Niall counters. “I wanted the seventy-two inch. You made me settle for the fifty-five. But I’ll count it anyways, because I know that you can’t name two more.”

“The coffee maker.” Harry says after a moment of thought.

“No, you got that for me for our anniversary.” Niall corrects him. “You picked it out. You picked everything out. You picked out all of the furniture, because you wanted it to look a certain way. You picked out the art, because I ‘have no taste’. You picked out the flatware, because ‘you’re the host, so you get to choose how the food is presented’. You picked out the appliances, and the workout gear, and even my bloody clothes, without letting me have a say, because you didn’t ever like anything that I picked.”

“I didn’t realize that I was that bad.” Harry mumbles.

“I may not have been a very good husband, Harry-” Niall sighs. “But you weren’t exactly winning any awards either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks defensively.

“You missed my med-school graduation because you were meeting with a car dealer.” Niall reminds him. “The night that I got home after my first shift as an intern, which was 48 sleepless hours of pure stress, you forced me to attend a charity gala. Whenever I told you about my surgeries, you fell asleep.” 

“I-” Harry starts, but Niall isn’t finished.

“I never held any of that against you, because I loved you. And because you may have had your flaws, but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t a good husband most of the time. It’s just – When – When it mattered, you never once told me that you were proud of me, Harry.” Niall says quietly. “In the eight years that we were together, you never said that you were proud of me. Not once. So for you to say it today, for what you said it for, hurts worse than the fucking bullet that shot me.”

“Niall. I – I’m sorry.” Harry whispers.

“Please, just leave me alone.” Niall requests before Harry can say anything else. “I’m trying not to be mad at you for this, because I know that you didn’t say it to hurt me, but I need time to calm down. That’s why I came in here. It’s the only spot where I can just feel at peace while I’m here.”

“Okay.” Harry acquiesces. “Take as long as you need. I’ll have Bressie come by every so often to check on you though, alright?”

“That’s fine.” Niall nods. “Um – How’s Noah?”

“He’s fine.” Harry smiles. “He thinks that you’re playing hide and seek, so I’m going to have to send him in here too.”

“Sounds good.” Niall chuckles.

Harry heads to the door, but hesitates before opening it. He draws in a deep breath, turning back to Niall and saying, “About this morning-”

“I just said that I don’t want to talk about that with you.” Niall sighs.

“No – I, um – I mean before that.” Harry says sheepishly. “In the bed.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out, completely having forgotten about that incident until now.

“I wasn’t doing anything – like – creepy.” Harry says. “I just – I couldn’t get to sleep, so I went to sleep with Noah, because that always helps. And then he wasn’t in his bed, so I checked yours. I was just so fucking tired, and I would have woken you up to ask if it was okay, but you said that you didn’t sleep the night before, so I didn’t want to wake you up and make it so you didn’t get back to sleep, and-”

“It’s fine, Harry.” Niall cuts him off before his rambling can get any worse. “I understand. I know what you’re like when you’re sick. Just, uh – Just wake me up if it ever happens again. I’ll go to his room with him from now on if he comes for me, and if you want to sleep with him, then I’ll go back to my bed.”

“Alright.” Harry mumbles, turning back and walking out through the door.


	9. Chapter 9

“I’m not being depressed.” Niall groans. “Stop hovering you twat.”

“I’m not hovering because I think you’re ‘being depressed.’” Bressie chuckles. “I’m hovering because I enjoy the faces you make when you’re studying. They’re very intense. Speaking of – Why are you studying?”

“Because I’ve been out of practice for months now.” Niall sighs, reclining in his office chair. It’s been a few days since the incident in the kitchen, but Niall has spent a majority of his time since then in his study. He’s not even trying to hide. He just misses this space, misses the comfort it used to bring him. And, as an added bonus, whenever he’s in here, Harry generally stays away. Niall doesn’t know if it’s a habit, or what, because whenever Niall isn’t in the study, Harry is somewhere nearby, but once Niall enters the office, Harry disappears.

“And you think that old medical journals and papers are going to keep you up to date?” Bressie asks, sitting down on the couch.

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I just – I miss medicine, Bress. I miss the adrenaline. I miss doing something that matters. I miss helping people.”

“Right now, you need to focus on helping one person, Niall. Yourself.” Bressie says softly. “Medicine may be your calling, but it’s also your escape. It’s what you use to block out and ignore your problems. You use it as an emotional crutch to justify and excuse your lack of involvement in the other aspects of your life.”

“I know.” Niall admits. “I’m still allowed to miss it, right?”

“As long as you’re missing what you were doing for other people, and not what you were doing for yourself.” Bressie smiles. “I know you want to help people, Niall, and I promise that I understand it, but you need to find a healthy way to deal with your problems before you can go back to helping other people deal with theirs. As you are right now, I worry that, if you were practicing, you’d fall right back into ignoring your problems for theirs.”

“So that’s why you still haven’t signed off on lifting the mental incompetence status.” Niall guesses.

“It is.” Bressie nods. “I’m not keeping you like this because I want to, Niall. I’m doing it because, as someone who cares for you a great deal, I don’t want to see you regress into the same patterns that you followed before.”

“Am I ever going to be allowed to practice again?” Niall asks quietly.

“Of course.” Bressie tells him. “Niall, I’ve seen remarkable improvement in you since I moved in. You’re already so much better off than you were when we were at your flat. I was prepared to spend several months, or even years, helping you get to a good place. You’ve far exceeded my expectations of where you’d be in terms of your recovery right now.”

“What are you going to do once this is all done?” Niall asks, fitting his nail into his mouth to chew nervously at it.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” Bressie chuckles. “I’ve been working with MSF for years, but I think that it’s about time that I settled down. I’ve missed London, and, let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger.”

“You are possibly the most in-shape man I’ve ever seen for your age.” Niall scoffs.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, though, is it?” Bressie hums. “I’m in my mid-forties, Niall. I’m in my mid-forties, and I’ve only had one proper boyfriend, because I spent the first thirty-four years of my life denying who I was.”

“Oh.” Niall breathes out. “You want to date, and-”

“And it’s not exactly easy to find someone when I spend all of my time going around the planet to help people deal with disasters.” Bressie finishes for him. “I’ve seen and done some amazing things, and I’ve gotten to help so many people, but I still want a family and a partner. I want to have my own life, and not just be a chapter in other people’s stories.”

“Are you going to open up a private practice then?” Niall asks him.

“Maybe.” Bressie shrugs. “I haven’t put too much thought into that part. I’m mostly just focused on you at the moment.”

“You don’t have to put your life on hold for me, Bress.” Niall mutters. “I can find another therapist.”

“I’m not doing this all of this because I’m your therapist, Niall.” Bressie says, standing up from the couch. “I’m doing this because I care about you. You’re so much more than just a patient to me, and we both know that you know that.”

Niall doesn’t know what to say to that, but Bressie must have known that he wouldn’t. The older man leaves without waiting for a reply, his words hanging heavy enough in the air to feel almost suffocating.

Niall turns around, dropping the medical journal on the ground and throwing open the windows behind his desk. The cold air stings at his throat, but it feels better than the weight of Bressie’s statement. Or maybe it just feels better than Niall having to sort out his own feelings about Bressie. 

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed it, hasn’t felt how comfortable and easy things are with Bressie, hasn’t noticed that there’s more than just a hint of mutual attraction between them. And maybe that means something, maybe there’s something there, but he doesn’t want to deal with that right this moment. Everything is too muddled together in his head to even begin to try sorting it out.

He pulls the key to one of the drawers out of the planter where he’s hidden it, and grabs a secret stash of emergency fags and a lighter out of the back of his desk. They’re old and stale, and he shouldn’t be smoking with half a lung, but he doesn’t care. He needs something to calm the screaming static in his mind down to a dull buzz.

The first drag is painful, clawing mercilessly down his trachea and burning in his lungs. Still, it feels like greeting an old friend, the way it calms his nerves and brings down the hair standing on the back of his neck. He lets out the breath when he can’t hold it in anymore, coughing roughly into his hand while the smoke makes its way out.

Once his breathing evens out, he takes another drag, and another, and another until he’s interrupted by the door slamming shut and a growled, “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Fuck.” Niall sighs, taking another quick drag off of the fag before it’s torn out of his fingers and thrown outside of the window into the rain. “I wasn’t finished with that.”

“Good.” Harry spits out. “When exactly did you suffer brain damage?”

“Fuck off.” Niall mutters, letting the last lungful of smoke spill out through his lips.

“Where did you even get them?” Harry asks, grabbing the rest of the pack off of Niall’s desk and tossing them out of the window before Niall can get to them. “Or did you have them here before, even though you were supposed to have quit because we have a child?”

“Yes, Harry – We have a child! And it’s not me!” Niall snaps. “I don’t need another one of your endless fucking lectures!”

“Obviously you do, Niall!” Harry snarls. “Because you’re smoking, even though you only have half of a lung! Never mind the fact that our son could have seen you using these fucking things, you can’t smoke! I thought you were past the point of wanting to kill yourself!”

“It was one fucking fag!” Niall groans.

“One fag is too much.” Harry says sternly. “You know better than that.”

“I needed it.” Niall sighs. “If you’re done yelling at me, can you go?”

“Do you have any more?” Harry asks, pulling open the drawers of Niall’s desk and rummaging through them furiously.

“No.” Niall grumbles. It’s a lie, but he’s not sacrificing his only other set of stress-management aids to Harry’s superiority complex. “Those were my only ones. And now they’re soaking in a puddle, so – Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry says snidely. “I was going to ask if you could watch Noah for me tonight, but clearly you’re in no state to-”

“Why?” Niall cuts him off.

“I have something that I have to go out and do tonight.” Harry says quietly. “I’ve been putting it off, but I just can’t anymore, because I need to do it. I’ll call Gemma, and she can come over to-”

“Let me do it.” Niall requests. “Please? Bressie’s got dinner with his ex-wife tonight. This will be the first time I’ve gotten to be alone with Noah since the week before I left for Haiti.”

“Are you going to do anything else completely stupid?” Harry asks.

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “Please, Harry?”

“Fine.” Harry sighs.

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out.

“Whatever.” Harry mumbles, closing the drawers and walking out without another word. 

Niall doesn’t move again until a cold breeze from the window reminds him to close it. He stares at the pack of cigarettes on the ground turning into a pile of mush, but decides that being alone with Noah for what time he can get is worth so much more than the peace that they could give him. He opens the window again and grabs the other emergency pack from on top of the bookcase, tossing them out to join their partners.

 

“Noah, slow down!” Niall wheezes, doubling over and using the wall for support. “Papa can’t run that fast.”

“I don’t want to take a bath!” Noah squeals, continuing his flight around the house.

“Noah!” Niall groans, starting back up the chase when Noah disappears into the living room. He gets there just in time to see Noah’s head disappear behind the couch as he slips on the floor, and Niall’s heart stops when Noah’s scream echo off of the walls. He pushes past the tightness in his chest, scrambling through the room and behind the couch to find Noah crying and clutching his knee. Niall picks his son up, carrying him back around, and clutches Noah tight to his chest while he sits down on the couch before asking, “Are you okay, Noh-Noh?”

“It hurts.” Noah whimpers.

“Let me see it.” Niall says softly, prying away Noah’s hands and looking at the small bruise that’s already beginning to form over his left knee. “Oh, bubba.”

“Is it bad?” Noah sniffles.

“No.” Niall smiles at him. “You’ll be okay. It’ll hurt for a little while, but you’ll be better really soon. I promise.”

“How do you know?” Noah asks.

“Well, I’m a doctor, for one thing.” Niall chuckles. “And for another, I’ve had a little experience with knee injuries.”

“Really?” Noah asks.

“Yup.” Niall nods, lifting up the left leg of his joggers until the tight pink line of scar tissue is revealed. “See?”

“What happened?” Noah asks. “Did you get shot there too?”

“No.” Niall laughs. “Only in the chest, bubba. I hurt my knee playing footy, and it just got worse when I was older. I fell on it too many times.”

“I’ll be more careful.” Noah mumbles dutifully.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt, Noh-Noh.” Niall murmurs, wrapping his arms back around his baby boy and squeezing him as tight as he can. “Surgery isn’t fun when you’re the one on the table. Trust me.”

“Do I need surgery?” Noah gasps, his face twisting up in horror like a mirror image of Harry’s whenever he sees a spider.

“No.” Niall assures him through a giggle. “Just a kiss and a bath.”

“I don’t want to take a bath!” Noah whines.

“I know, bubba.” Niall hums, gripping tight around Noah’s waist and standing up. “And I’m sorry to have to make you. Daddy gave me a list of things that we have to do tonight though, and a bath is the last thing on the list. After that, we’ll get you dressed for bed, and we can read a story before you go to sleep. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Noah agrees. “Can it be a short bath?”

“Of course.” Niall nods, pressing a peck to Noah’s forehead. “We just need to get you clean so that you don’t smell gross at school tomorrow.”

“Can it be short and still have bubbles?” Noah asks quietly.

“Wouldn’t be a proper bath without them, would it?” Niall grins, shifting Noah onto his hip so that he can grab the banister once he starts walking up the stairs. Niall thanks god that Zayn has been pushing him so hard in his physio, because even with all of the work he’s done, carrying all forty pounds of Noah upstairs takes more effort than it should. It doesn’t help that he’s on Niall’s right side, his weaker side.

They make it up the stairs without any problems, and Niall walks into Noah’s room, smiling at how perfectly neat and organized it is. He definitely got that from Harry. Niall still isn’t any better at doing laundry or dishes than he was back in med-school. He’s glad that Noah didn’t take after his slovenly example. Then again, with Niall never being around, that’s not much of a surprise.

He sets Noah down, letting him take care of his own clothes while Niall fills the tub and puts in the bubbles. Noah pouts when he finally climbs in, sulking behind the bubbles until Niall fashions himself a beard out of suds that looks ridiculous enough to make Noah giggle.

He keeps to his word, making sure that Noah gets fully cleaned in about five minutes and letting him play until he’s content and asks to be let out about fifteen minutes later. Niall wraps him in a big, fluffy towel and helps him dry off before he leads him into the bedroom and lets him pick out his own pajamas.

His heart clenches in his chest when Noah finally settles into the bed and grabs his book from the bedside table, asking Niall to read him ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’. It’s not just any copy of the book though, no. It’s one that Niall had had made special for his and Harry’s first wedding anniversary, before Noah was even born. It’s filled with illustrations that Zayn had spent weeks making for him, with the characters based on people from their life together. 

Harry was, of course, the Cheshire Cat. Alice was based on Niall, which pissed him off to no end. Louis was the Mad Hatter, which he absolutely loved. Liam was the White Rabbit, which he called unfair. Zayn made himself into the Caterpillar. Luke was made into the March Hare. Olli even appeared as the Dormouse. And the Queen of Hearts bears a striking resemblance to Gemma, but nobody is allowed to mention it under threat of excruciating pain.

“It’s Daddy’s favorite.” Noah explains.

“I know.” Niall sighs, settling onto the bed and taking the book. The leather is well worn beneath his hands, the spine falling apart easily, as if it wants to be read. Niall can’t bear to look at the inscription on the first page, to see the mirror image of the tattoos still inked on their biceps, so he just flips to the page that has the bookmark in it and starts to read from the top of the page.

Noah clocks out after a few minutes, his snoring a relief from having to read any more of this book. Niall sets the book back on the table and turns out the lights, pressing a kiss into Noah’s fringe before leaving him alone for the night once he closes the door behind him. 

He makes his way back downstairs, heading straight for the kitchen. Harry doesn’t lock the deadbolts anymore after the incident in the kitchen a few days ago, and Niall is extremely grateful for it once he finds out that the wine chiller is still well stocked, even though Harry is supposed to be on a very restrictive diet.

That’s how Bressie finds him half an hour later, on the couch in the living room and already tipsy on his third glass of wine, humming the ‘Unbirthday Song’ under his breath. 

“What’s wrong?” Bressie asks, taking a seat next to him on the couch. “Because it must be pretty serious if you’re being stupid enough to mix alcohol with your meds, which you obviously know better than to do, since you never shut up about the fact that you’re a doctor.”

“What isn’t?” Niall chuckles drunkenly. “What the fuck isn’t wrong with my life right now?”

“Fair point.” Bressie sighs. “Care to be more specific about what sparked this particular series of decisions though?”

“Depends.” Niall hums, setting down his glass of wine on the side table and pivoting until he’s straddled over Bressie’s lap. “Are you asking me because you’re my therapist? Or are you asking because you’re in love with me?”

“Niall-” Bressie breathes out.

“Oh, don’t deny it now.” Niall scoffs, planting his hands on the back of the couch behind Bressie’s head and leaning in closer to use Bressie’s own words against him. “We both know that you know it.”

“I didn’t mean to put that on you.” Bressie murmurs. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Then why did you?” Niall asks, giving his hips a slow roll that has Bressie groaning and gripping onto him almost painfully to stop the motion. 

“Do you know how hard it is keeping this inside?” Bressie asks back. “How hard it is waking up next to you every morning, and spending every day with you, and having to pretend like I haven’t fallen for you, even though you’re my patient?”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.” Niall slurs out, leaning in to mouth a sloppy line up Bressie’s jaw. He grins when he feels the convulsion that runs down Bressie’s spine until his hips rut up against Niall unconsciously. “I thought you wanted someone who could hold you down and fuck you.”

“I thought I did too.” Bressie mutters. “But I don’t. I want you. As fucked up as it is, I want you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Niall asks, curling his fingers into the front of Bressie’s jumper and pulling him sideways until he lands on top of Niall, the younger man’s legs locked behind his back to keep him in place. “Take me.”

“Niall, no.” Bressie grunts. “We can’t. You’re my patient. It’s not right to do that with you.”

“I don’t care.” Niall whispers hotly, gripping around Bressie’s neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. Bressie grunts and tries to pull away, but gives in after a moment and kisses Niall back. It’s not like kissing Harry, doesn’t have the same familiarity, doesn’t have the balance between rough and gentle, but it’s still good. It still feels great.

Niall doesn’t have his strength back yet, but what he has regained is more than enough for him to rip open Bressie’s shirt, scattering buttons over the hardwood floor that Harry had fallen in love with. Niall doesn’t remember too much about the last time that he and Bressie shagged, but it starts coming back more when his hands start to wander over the defined ridges of Bressie’s abs. Bressie groans at the contact, rutting down hard against Niall at the same time that he snakes his tongue into Niall’s mouth.

Niall grinds back up against him, desperate for more, and whines, “Please, Bress. Need you to fuck me. Please?”

“Fuck.” Bressie grunts, reaching down between them to tug open the button on Niall’s jeans. He moves quickly for a man his size, leaning back and pulling Niall’s jeans off in a flash before he’s back on top of Niall, kissing him harshly while he palms him through his pants.

“What the fuck?” comes a booming roar from the other side of the room. Before Niall can even process it through the cloud of inebriation and pleasure hovering in his mind, Bressie’s weight is gone from on top of him, and there’s a crashing sound.

Niall catches his bearings just in time to see Bressie get smashed through the coffee table in a replay of that morning all those weeks ago, only with the positions reversed. Harry is laying into him mercilessly from where he’s straddled over Bressie’s chest, his arm nothing more than a blur with how hard and fast he’s punching Bressie in the face. Bressie is beating at Harry’s shoulders, but the position is giving Harry the advantage, and he doesn’t let himself get moved away.

Niall yells at them to stop, barely able to see through the tears in his eyes. He scrambles to his feet and grabs Harry around the waist to pull him off. It takes an extreme effort, even with the adrenaline running through his body, but he manages to haul Harry off and back, keeping him locked in place despite his struggling to get back to beating Bressie’s face.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Harry growls, taking a step forward only to have Niall pivot and put himself between them when Harry is on one foot.

“Stop!” Niall says forcefully, extending both of his arms to stop them when they try to rush each other.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Bressie spits out with a mouthful of blood.

“Get out of my house!” Harry snarls. “Get out right fucking now, or, so help me, I will call the police and report you for malpractice!”

“Bressie, you need to go.” Niall tells him.

“If I ever see you again, if you ever come near Niall again, I will have your medical license revoked before you can even blink!” Harry grits out.

“I’m not leaving without him.” Bressie says angrily. “There’s no way that I’m letting him stay here after this. Not with your violent streak.”

“Bressie, please-” Niall whimpers. “Just go. This isn’t worth losing your license over. Please just go.”

“I’m coming back for you.” Bressie returns before he storms out.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Niall snaps once the front door slams shut.

“What’s wrong with me?” Harry asks incredulously. “He’s your fucking therapist, Niall! I’ve tried to let it go, but I can’t! What he’s doing with you is wrong!”

“So is fucking beating someone’s face in!” Niall hisses.

“I can’t just stand back and watch someone hurt you, Niall.” Harry huffs, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

“You – You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Niall scoffs. “The only one who’s been hurting me is you.”

“I’ve been trying to help you!” Harry groans.

“Why?” Niall asks harshly. “I’ve asked you so many times to just let me go so that I can actually begin to heal. So why can’t you do that?”

“Because I’m still in love with you!” Harry yells. “How don’t you fucking get that by now?”

“Then where were you tonight, Harry?” Niall asks. “If you’re in love with me, then why were you out on a date with Xander tonight?”

“I broke things off with him.” Harry breathes out, taking a step closer. “I told him that what happened can’t ever happen again.”

“What, after a goodbye shag?” Niall mutters.

“No, but even if I had, you don’t get to judge me when you’ve been having sex with your therapist where our son could see you.” Harry growls. “And especially when you lied about the two of you.”

“The only time I’ve ever had sex with Bressie was before I even met you!” Niall spits out. “And I know that you were lying about how long you’ve been seeing Xander, so your high horse is about a millimeter tall. Noah told me that he’s been coming around since before I even left for Haiti. You two keep him up at night with the sounds you make.”

“Oh my god!” Harry groans. “Xander was my fucking personal trainer, Niall! The sounds that were keeping Noah up were the two of us in the gym, because the only times I could fit in workouts some days were after Noah went to bed.”

“Since when do you need a personal trainer?” Niall scoffs.

“Since I’m over thirty, and a single father.” Harry mutters. “Niall, the only time that I’ve ever slept with Xander was the night that you showed up here, and I didn’t even mean for that to happen. Noah was over at Gemma’s because I needed a night where I could break down and not have to pretend to be strong after losing you. I was drunk, and vulnerable, and when he showed up for a workout session that I forgot about – I just wanted to stop feeling like I was falling apart. I thought that I’d lost you forever, and-”

“Stop saying that!” Niall snarls. “Stop saying that you ‘lost’ me. You didn’t lose anything, Harry. You kicked me out. I didn’t choose to leave you. You forced me to leave.”

“I was trying to get you to fight for us.” Harry murmurs, cupping Niall’s cheeks in his hands. “You weren’t supposed to just go along with it. You were supposed to fight for me, Niall.”

“You’re the one who told me not to.” Niall reminds him. “You’re the one who said that you wouldn’t believe me if I did. I was just giving you what you wanted. You told me that you wanted to move on from me.”

“I didn’t.” Harry whispers. “I wanted you to fight like hell. I wanted to feel like I still mattered to you. I was trying to force you to see how you made me feel, Niall. When you left for Syria, I was scared out of my mind. I thought that me leaving you would put things in perspective for you. You were supposed to realize that Noah and I are more important than your career.”

“You two were never less important to me than my career, Harry.” Niall mumbles. “I know that I was shit at showing it, but I loved you both with every fiber of my being. When you told me to leave, I did it because you told me that was what would be best for you and Noah. I just wanted to give you both the best life I could, even if that was by removing myself from the equation.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry breathes out. “Niall, I’m so sorry for all of what’s happened.”

“That doesn’t fix anything, Harry.” Niall sighs. “You fucking wrecked me.”

“Then let me put you back together.” Harry murmurs, leaning in and catching Niall’s lips in a tender kiss that tastes like wine and whiskey. His hands find Niall’s hips, and he guides them backwards until they fall onto the couch.

Nothing about it is right, not when they’re both a bit drunk, and Niall still has the phantom taste of Bressie’s tongue on his, and Harry still has Bressie’s blood on his knuckles. But at the same time, everything about it feels right. There’s a comfort and ease in the way they slot together, in the weight of Harry on top of him, in the touches that are as habitual between them as breathing, which nobody else could ever hope to match, and that nothing could replace.

They grind against each other furiously, hands and lips and teeth marking anything that they can reach on the other’s body. It’s messy and sloppy and rough, but there’s something beautiful in that. Something about the familiarity between them that’s setting Niall’s skin on fire and his heart racing. Because this is everything that he wants, even though he knows that the pain is coming soon. He can’t possibly have something good without getting something bad right afterwards. His karma is too dirty for that.

Harry’s thrusts start to pick up speed, and Niall ruts against him just as hard and fast, drawing him into a chaotic kiss that’s more just breathing into each other’s mouths than anything else. Harry cums first, burying his face in Niall’s neck with a loud groan of his name.

That’s all it takes to push Niall over the edge, and then he’s cumming in his pants, screaming out Harry’s name and digging his nails into the skin of Harry’s neck to pull him back up for another frantic kiss. They pant brokenly against each other’s lips, clinging tighter to each other while they come down from the high of finally being reunited.

“Please say that you’ll give me another chance.” Harry whispers.

“Would you give me one?” Niall asks.

“It’s all that I want, Ni-” Harry starts to say more, but he’s cut off by a door slamming open.

“Get off of him, now.” says a familiar voice, laced with rage.

“What are you doing here, Zayn?” Harry sighs, sitting up off of Niall. 

If it were anyone else, or if Niall were in a better state of mind, he’d be embarrassed about laying there, sweaty and only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cum soaked pants. But Zayn has seen worse in the years they’ve known each other, and Niall is too blissed out to give much of a fuck about the way he looks.

“Taking Niall and leaving.” Zayn says forcefully.

“How the hell can Bressie possibly have gotten to you already?” Harry huffs.

“What the fuck does Bressie have to do with anything?” Zayn scoffs.

“Wait, if Bressie didn’t send you, then why are you here, Zee?” Niall asks, standing up on shaky legs that are still a bit boneless from his orgasm.

“My solicitor told me to hire a private investigator.” Zayn says, walking over and dragging Niall away by the elbow. “He couldn’t figure out why the judge was being so uncooperative over your case, so he suggested that I hire someone to look into the judge on the low.”

“I don’t need him to be cooperative anymore, Zee.” Niall mumbles. “I – I think that Harry and I might give it another go.”

“He paid off the judge, Niall.” Zayn growls. “On the same day that I filed your case, the one he’s not even supposed to know about, a deposit of fifty-thousand pounds was transferred into the judge’s account from one of Harry’s.”

“What?” Niall gasps, a sudden wave of nausea coming over him at Zayn’s confession.

“He’s been paying the judge to keep him from making a ruling in our favor.” Zayn explains. “He’s been bribing the judge so that he could keep you here.”

“Wait-” Harry starts, taking a step towards Niall and Zayn.

“Come any closer and I’ll fucking kill you, Styles.” Zayn snarls, clenching his fists and moving between Harry and Niall.

“Niall, please let me explain.” Harry begs desperately. “I-”

“Get me out of here.” Niall whimpers once he realizes that Harry isn’t denying the accusation, feeling his legs start to go weak under the weight of the truth.

Zayn doesn’t need any more than that. He wraps an arm around Niall’s waist and helps him move as quickly as he can. They stumble out through the door, Zayn supporting Niall more and more as his body starts to go numb from shock, rather than the cold on his exposed, sweat covered legs. He packs Niall into the car, locking the doors before Harry gets there and tries to wrench the passenger side open.

Niall can’t hold back the sobs that shake his body anymore. Not once Harry begins crying, pounding on the window and begging to be allowed to explain. Zayn doesn’t give him the chance, hitting the button on his visor that Harry gave him to open up the gate whenever he came over to work on Niall’s physio. The sound of gravel flying echoes inside Niall’s skull when Zayn pulls away, but nothing is loud enough to cover up the sound of Niall’s heart shattering or Harry sobbing.

He should have known better than to believe, even for a second, that he was allowed to be happy ever again.


	10. Chapter 10

“Niall!” comes a whining call from the other room, forcing Niall up off of the couch. He drags himself reluctantly across the flat, standing in the doorway to observe his ‘patient’. The thing is, as annoying as playing nurse can be, it’s actually a relief. It’s something to focus on other than the ignored texts from Bressie, and the dozens of instantly deleted voicemails from Harry, and the rest of the general chaos that constitutes his life now.

“What’s up, Li?” Niall asks.

“I’m bored.” Liam groans. “Daytime telly sucks.”

“That it does, mate.” Niall chuckles.

“What have you been doing to keep from going-” Liam starts, before trailing off with a furious blush.

“Crazy?” Niall asks with a grin. “I don’t think I’m really the best person for you to ask about that.”

“Sorry. I – I didn’t – I-” Liam stammers.

“It’s fine, Li.” Niall assures him, stepping closer to the bed. “I’ve accepted that I’m mad. It was bound to happen to one of us eventually. I always that that it would be Louis, but – I guess I was the one to come up short. Besides, I can’t be that crazy if Zayn is trusting me to take care of you while he’s at work.”

“That’s true.” Liam says with a soft smile. “I’m just glad to be out of that hospital.”

“The food there was better than anything that I can cook.” Niall points out. 

“That’s true.” Liam giggles. “But Zayn and I can’t cook either, so I’m kind of used to crappy food.”

“Thanks.” Niall scoffs, pulling back the duvet. “Just for that, I think we’re going to check you out now.”

“Ugh, why?” Liam whines, clutching at the sheet in a desperate attempt to stave Niall off.

“Because I have to see how you’re doing after the ‘hack-job’ that I performed on you, according to your husband.” Niall hums, pulling the sheet away. “Shirt off.”

“I think you just enjoy seeing me shirtless.” Liam grumbles, pulling the fabric over his head.

“What can I say?” Niall snorts, leaning in to examine the line of Liam’s sternotomy scar. It’s pink and rigid, still healing from where Niall split him open to save his life. His burns have improved significantly in the last several weeks, and Niall is happy with how they’re coming along. “Two men literally fighting over me isn’t enough. I think you can take them though. Come on, Baby. Do it for me.”

“Okay, I haven’t actually met this ‘Bressie’ guy, but from what Zayn tells me, he’s absolutely massive. I don’t feel like getting my arse kicked just so I can shag yours.” Liam laughs.

“If Harry can take him out, then you can too.” Niall grins. “I have faith in you, Li. And I’m a very good shag. I promise it would be worth it.”

“I think I’ll stick with my husband, thanks.” Liam chuckles.

“Probably the smart choice.” Niall nods, stretching out Liam’s shirt to put help him put it back on. “You’re coming along nicely. I mean, I made you look like Frankenstein’s monster, but you’re healing well.”

“We’re scar-buddies.” Liam says with a dopey smile when his head pops through the hole.

“You’re adjusting very well to what happened to you.” Niall says, sitting down on the bed next to Liam once he lays back. “Are you sure you’re not hiding anything? You could talk to me about it, Li. I wouldn’t tell Zayn if you didn’t want me to.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Liam says with a shrug. “It was scary, yeah, but I always knew this was a possibility. It’s one of the first things that happened when I became a fireman. One of my station-mates was hurt pretty badly during my third call. He died a few days later from his injuries. Since then, I’ve known that we’re all living on borrowed time. But you gave me more time, Niall.”

“I just happened to be the one in the A&E.” Niall sighs. “It could just as easily have been somebody else.”

“Zayn told me that nobody else could have done what you did. He told me that all of your attendings combined couldn’t have saved me. He’s pored over every word of the report that you submitted to Corden, reads it every night before going to sleep, and he still can’t figure out how you managed to keep me alive. He says that it shouldn’t have been possible. That he couldn’t have done it if he’d been in your position, even if he’d specialized in trauma instead of neuro.” Liam explains.

“He’s exaggerating.” Niall mumbles. “If you ever tell him I said this, I’ll kill you, but he’s twice the surgeon that I am.”

“That’s not what he says.” Liam says softly, wrapping his arm around Niall’s shoulder and pulling him into a cuddle. “He admires you, you know. For everything that you’ve been through, and the fact that you’re still standing. For the way he says that time stands still for you in the OR. For being the strongest person any of us knows. And he’s not the only one who admires you. I do too.”

“You realize that I was committed, right?” Niall snorts. “Did you forget the part where I starved myself for three days? Or when I almost tried to kill myself with a butter knife? Or when I made a move on my therapist five minutes before I dry-humped my lying, manipulative ex-husband on the couch while he still had Bressie’s blood on his hands? That all happened in like, the span of two months. You admiring me doesn’t say great things about your mental state.”

“I’m not saying that you haven’t had missteps, Niall.” Liam says quietly. “You may have fallen down a lot of times, but you keep getting back up.”

“That’s just because I’m a stubborn arsehole.” Niall mutters, nestling into Liam’s shoulder.

“Whatever it takes to keep you going.” Liam muses, running his fingers over the nape of Niall’s neck.

“You know-” a voice hums from the doorway. “There was a time in my life when I spent hours every day picturing the both of you in my bed, waiting for me.”

“Oh really?” Niall giggles. “I didn’t know you were into polyamory.”

“I don’t think he could handle the both of us at the same time.” Liam grins.

“Definitely not.” Niall agrees. “He’s too lazy in bed.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Liam sniggers.

“That dream is officially dead.” Zayn huffs. “There is absolutely nothing sexy about this.”

“We could take our pants off if that would make things better for you.” Liam offers, waggling his eyebrows and sending Niall into a fit of cackling until his lung screams in protest of it. He tries to hide his discomfort, but Liam notices anyways, and asks, “You okay?”

“’M fine.” Niall tells him. “Takes some adjusting. My body is still getting used to not having all of its pieces. It’s getting better though. I only had to stop twice when I went down to get the mail earlier. Once each way.”

“That’s good, considering we have a sixth floor walk-up.” Zayn smiles. “Sometimes I even have to stop.”

“Yeah, but you’re lazy.” Niall points out. “Even outside of bed.”

“And you’re a dick.” Zayn scowls. “I don’t know why I’m letting you live here.”

“Because it was either this or the hospital.” Niall mumbles, turning his gaze downwards and fitting his thumbnail into his mouth. “I – Thank you both for letting me stay here instead of sending me back there. Thank you for getting me out of that house, and away from Bressie and Haz. I need some space from both of them, and if you’d put me back in the hospital, they’d have found a way to get in.”

“I was just joking, Ni.” Zayn says softly, dropping his jacket onto the floor and climbing into the bed beside Niall so that he’s tucked between Liam and Zayn. “You know that we want you here, right?”

“I’m sure you’d rather go back to just the two of you again.” Niall mutters.

“Not until you’re good and ready.” Liam says adamantly, tightening his hold around Niall’s shoulders. “Now go ahead and take a kip. I know you didn’t get much sleep last night. I heard you shuffling around. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Thanks.” Niall slurs out, already half asleep now that he’s been given permission to rest for a bit. Zayn curls closer against his back, and Liam plays gently with his hair, and it all combines to have Niall falling asleep within minutes. 

But not before he overhears Zayn whisper, “You noticed that, right?”

“Yeah.” Liam returns quietly. “He called him ‘Haz’ again.”

Niall can’t even process the significance of that before he falls asleep, the memory of the exchange wiped out of his head by the time he goes down.

 

“Have you talked to him yet?” Liam asks when Niall settles down beside him on the couch with their bowls of tinned soup and slightly burned grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Which one?” Niall scoffs. “I wouldn’t know what to say to either of them right now. I molested Bressie just before Harry beat the shit out of him. What do you say about that? And where would I even begin with Harry?”

“I was talking about Noah.” Liam mumbles around a mouthful of sandwich before swallowing and adding, “This has got to be hard on him too. You were there one night, tucking him into bed, and then the next morning you were gone.”

“I’ve talked to him once.” Niall nods. “Yesterday, my mum called to talk to him, and then conferenced me in once Harry got off of the phone.”

“How did that go?” Liam asks.

“Remember when I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour last night?” Niall mutters. “I spent the whole time crying. That’s how that went. I couldn’t even tell him why I left, because he wouldn’t understand. I don’t even understand. This whole thing is so impossibly fucked up.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Liam questions.

“For now, I’m just going to try and wrap my head around it.” Niall shrugs. “I just need some time to figure out what’s going on, and to get myself sorted out before I even think about what I’m going to do about Harry and Bressie.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Liam says gently, bumping his shoulder against Niall’s. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you decide to put yourself first. You need to do it though.”

“I’m beginning to realize that.” Niall admits.

“Took you long enough.” Liam snorts. “We’ve all been telling you that for what, thirteen years?”

“I get it, okay?” Niall grumbles. “I’m really shit at being a functional adult.”

“Niall, I didn’t mean that-” Liam starts.

“I know what you meant, Li.” Niall sighs. “I’m just not built like that. It’s instinct for me to put other people first. You know what it’s like. We’re the same that way.”

“And look what it got us, Niall.” Liam says a bit sternly. “Look at the scars we have because we keep putting other people ahead of ourselves. We both almost died because of those instincts. Sometimes you have to put rational thought over instinct.”

“Does that mean you’re taking the fire-safety inspector position?” Niall asks him.

“We haven’t talked about it.” Liam mutters.

“Do you want to take it?” Niall asks.

“Of course not.” Liam bites out. “But I do want a long life with my husband. I want to get to see him become old and grey. I want to finally be allowed to seriously consider having kids together. I want to keep at the job I’ve loved for over fifteen years, but I want a life too.”

“So which do you want more?” Niall asks cautiously.

“I don’t know.” Liam whispers. “For the life of me, I just don’t know. I feel like it should be easy, like I should just be able to pick Zayn and be done with it, but-”

“But you can’t just do it.” Niall finishes for him. “Because being a hero is part of who you are. Saving people is the core of your being. It’s not that easy to pick one or the other, even when you know that you should.”

“That’s what happened with you and Harry, isn’t it?” Liam sighs.

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “Because I knew that I should pull back on the career stuff, that I should spend more time with my husband and son. But saving people is a part of me too. And then it was too late. I still hadn’t made up my mind, but Harry had. He was done waiting for me to realize the obvious. Don’t let that happen to you, Li. Make your decision carefully, but make it sooner rather than later.”

“Do you think he’d leave me if I decided to stay at the station?” Liam asks quietly.

“No.” Niall admits, shaking his head. “Zee loves you with every bit of himself. He’s not going anywhere, Liam. But this decision does determine how both of you will spend the rest of your lives. You’re at a fork in the road, and you need to decide which one you’re going to take. Both have their ups and downs. It’s just a matter of which is better to you.”

“What do you think I should do?” Liam questions.

“I can’t help here.” Niall says softly. “I’m in no position to be making major life decisions for myself, let alone anyone else. You have to choose which way is right for the two of you.”

“This sucks.” Liam mutters. “Making decisions sucks.”

“That it does, Li.” Niall agrees. “That it most certainly does.”

 

“Come on. I know you can do another set.” Zayn huffs.

“I’m going to throw this fucking medicine ball at your stupid fucking face.” Niall growls out between heaving breaths.

“You’re so pissy whenever we do your PT.” Zayn sighs.

“I wonder why.” Niall grunts, lifting the medicine ball over his head and doing a squat as low as he can. “Do you think that this is fun for me?”

“Do you think that it’s fun for me?” Zayn fires back. “I’m working twelve hour days, taking lead on some of the most complicated cases I’ve ever seen. I want to be at home right now, spending as much time as I can with my husband, not watching you turn into a sweaty pile of gelatin. I know this sucks, Nialler. I know it’s hard, and it hurts, and you feel like you’re going to die. I know that. I also know that you know that you have to do this if you want to get better. So stop getting pissed at me, and do the set. Or don’t. I don’t give a fuck.”

“What happened?” Niall asks, setting the medicine ball on the ground.

“Nothing.” Zayn snaps.

“Zee, what happened?” Niall asks again, more forcefully this time so as to let Zayn know that he’s not going to drop it.

“I lost a patient.” Zayn sighs, laying back on the weight bench that he’s been using to sit and watch Niall from. “I was clipping an aneurysm, and it ruptured, and I couldn’t fix it. I’ve clipped dozens of aneurysms, but this one got away from me.”

“It happens, Zee.” Niall says gently.

“I know it happens, Nialler.” Zayn mutters. “But it’s not supposed to happen to me. Not this. Not losing a patient in a routine surgery. I did a hemispherectomy last month. It went perfectly. It was a little boy, three years younger than Noah, and I cut his brain in half and removed the dead portion. He’s doing beautifully. He’s doing great after this insanely complicated and dangerous procedure, and I lost someone during an operation that I’ve done eighty-seven times before.”

“Sometimes that’s just how it goes, Zee.” Niall says, putting his hand on Zayn’s knee. “Sometimes people die, even during routine procedures. It’s shitty, and it isn’t fair, and you can be pissed off about it, but don’t hold onto it any longer than you need to. We can’t save them all.”

“A few months ago, I was the one reminding you of that.” Zayn mumbles.

“I remember.” Niall nods. “A lot has changed since October.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost February.” Zayn sighs.

“Don’t remind me.” Niall groans. “Harry’s birthday is in a few days.”

“So?” Zayn asks.

“So it feels weird that I’m not going to be spending it with him.” Niall mumbles. “I spent all day at the hospital last year to avoid thinking about it, but I don’t have that anymore.”

“Well I have the day off, so the three of us can stay in and stuff our faces and ignore the fact that it has any significance whatsoever, yeah?” Zayn offers.

“That sounds great.” Niall admits. “No Harry, or Bressie, or surgery. Just films and junk food. Maybe we can revisit your threesome fantasy.”

“And have me do all the work?” Zayn scoffs. “No thank you.”

“Told you that you were lazy in bed.” Niall snorts.

“It wouldn’t matter anyways.” Zayn shrugs. “Li hasn’t been able to – You know. Not since the surgery.”

“He’s still healing.” Niall says quietly. “He’s in a lot of pain. Probably even more than he’s letting on. That kind of puts a damper on things.”

“I know.” Zayn mutters. “It’s still – I don’t know – I’m worried. Worried and in some serious need of stress relief.”

“Jerk off in the shower like the rest of us.” Niall shrugs. “It’ll happen when it happens, Zee.”

“Are you going to finish that set now, or do you want to get back home?” Zayn huffs.

“Home, please.” Niall requests. “I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for a year.”

He doesn’t voice the thought that, maybe by the time he woke up, he’d know what to do about Harry and Bressie. He’s pretty sure that Zayn hears it anyways, because he walks to the locker room with his arm slung over Niall’s shoulder and presses a kiss into his fringe.

 

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Niall asks.

“Yes!” Liam groans, batting at Niall with his hand. “You’re only going to be gone for a couple of hours. I can handle being alone for a few hours. Are you going to be alright?”

“I’m not the one who’s been limited to bed-rest.” Niall points out.

“No, but you are the one who has PTSD.” Liam counters.

“If I can fix you while I have PTSD, then I can handle a lunch.” Niall chuckles.

“Give him my love, yeah?” Liam requests.

“I will.” Niall nods, pecking Liam on the cheek. “Call me if you have any problems at all. If your chest hurts, or if you-”

“Go!” Liam huffs, smacking Niall on the hip.

“We’ll just be down the street.” Niall tells him.

“See you later.” Liam smiles, shooing Niall towards the door.

Niall walks out with a glance back over his shoulder, finding Liam already focused on the shitty daytime telly that he’s stuck with. He’ll be fine. Niall won’t be gone for that long. He wishes that he could take Liam with him, knows that it would probably do the older man a lot of good to get out of the house, but he’s not strong enough yet. 

Niall is going to be walking there, since he’s not allowed to drive and doesn’t have his car or access to his money for a taxi. Luckily he’s meeting up with a millionaire, so money for lunch isn’t so much of an issue.

It’s cold outside once he finally gets there, managing to make it down the stairs without having to take a rest. He walks slowly, making sure not to take things too quickly when the air is this thin. He only has to stop twice on the way to the restaurant, which probably shouldn’t make him as proud as it does. 

Bressie would tell him that it’s okay to be proud of himself. Harry would tell him to stop always being so doubtful about himself. Zayn would tell him to stop thinking about the two of them and focus on what he’s doing. He takes Zayn’s advice, letting himself be led back through the restaurant until he meets the person he’s supposed to be seeing.

“You look good.” he smiles, standing up from the table.

“Were you expecting any different?” Niall scoffs.

“Well – I mean-” he stammers, looking a bit sheepish. “A little, I guess.”

“Haven’t changed at all.” Niall hums, giving him a quick hug and then sitting down.

“I’ve missed you.” he offers.

“I’ve missed you too, Luke.” Niall laughs. “I really have.”

 

“And that’s what life is like for a rock star.” Luke grins, slouching back in his seat with his hand still wrapped loosely around his beer. “How have things been for you?”

“Is it in bad taste to say ‘crazy’ if I’m literally a psychiatric patient?” Niall questions.

“Nah.” Luke laughs, waving him off.

“Then things have been crazy.” Niall muses. “Absolutely mad.”

“I’m caught up through you going into the hospital after your lung collapsed.” Luke tells him. “But Lou can’t tell me what’s happened since then. He’s pissed at being kept out of the loop.”

“Well-” Niall drawls out. “Zayn, Bressie, and Harry had me committed right after that. Then Harry had a court order passed so he could bring me to his, instead of leaving me in the mental ward. Then I starved myself for three days so he’d send me back, but it didn’t work. Bressie moved into my room to act as a buffer and therapist at the same time. Then he fell in love with me and we sort of almost fucked. Then he and Harry got into another fight. Then I had sort-of sex with Harry when he said he’s still in love with me and wants me back. Then Zayn told me that Harry had been paying off a judge to keep my power of attorney from being transferred to Zee so that he could keep me there. Now I’m living with Zee and Li, and avoiding both Harry and Bressie.”

“Jesus.” Luke breathes out. “That’s – Jesus.”

“Yup.” Niall nods, tipping his glass of water towards Luke and wishing it were a beer. God, he really wishes it were a beer. “That’s just about the only way to put it.”

“So – What are you going to do?” Luke asks.

“If I only knew.” Niall sighs.

“Have you talked to either of them?” Luke questions.

“Not yet.” Niall admits. “I – I don’t know what to do. It’s all I’ve been thinking about when I’m not taking care of Li, but I have no idea what to do. I spend all day going back and forth between them, trying to figure out which one to pick, or if I should even pick one of them.

“Bressie is like – He’s perfect for me, you know? He understands what comes along with being a doctor. He knows about the long hours, and the sudden surgeries, and having patients come first sometimes. And he’s so patient with me. He helps me work through things at a pace that I’m comfortable with. He never puts more on me than I can deal with. And he’s direct. There’s never any hidden agenda with him. And – And he’s safe. 

“But, Harry is – He’s Harry. He’s my family. We have a son. We were together for eight years. He’s a part of me. And when things are good with him, they’re amazing. He knows me like nobody else in the world. But he’s controlling, and he’s manipulative. He can’t ever just talk things out. He manipulates the situation to force me into making a decision, rather than just telling me what he wants. If he’d just talk to me, then maybe we could work things out, but I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”

“Maybe you need time to see what’s going on with them.” Luke suggests. “To consider your options.”

“What, like dating?” Niall scoffs.

“Well, why not?” Luke asks.

“Because I don’t even know what to say to them.” Niall mutters. “I should be focusing on myself. On getting better.”

“You have to do what’s right for you, Niall.” Luke says gently. “But I know you pretty well, and I don’t think you’re going to make much progress until this is decided. As long as you have this choice hanging over you, it’s going to keep pulling your focus from the rest of your recovery.”

“You’re right.” Niall grumbles, dropping his head into his hands. “Ugh, I miss operating. But apparently practicing medicine is a ‘crutch’ that I ‘use to justify my lack of involvement in the other aspects of my life’.”

“Bressie?” Luke asks.

“Yeah.” Niall confirms.

“He’s not wrong.” Luke shrugs.

“No.” Niall sighs. “He’s not.”

“You know we’re all pulling for you, right?” Luke asks gently. “Louis is pissed off at you for what you pulled with Noah, but he’s still on your side, Niall. We both are. So are Zayn and Liam. We all want you to get better and be happy.”

“I know.” Niall says with a slight smile. “And I’m thankful for that. I’ve missed you while you’ve been off being a super star. I’m glad I could score a couple hours of your attention.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Luke laughs. “I’m the same asshole you met nine years ago when my husband tried to fix us up. I’m a bit busier now, but I’d always make time for you, Niall. All you have to do is call.”

“You’ll regret giving me that kind of unfettered access.” Niall grins. “I’ll call you constantly from now on. You’ll never get any sleep.”

“I think I can handle that.” Luke chuckles. “Or I could just take you back to Los Angeles with me. You could keep Louis from getting bored.”

“Pretty sure that being a big-time producer means he isn’t bored.” Niall hums.

“You’d be surprised.” Luke muses. “I get at least fifteen texts a day from him complaining about how bored he is.”

“And how often do those lead to sexting?” Niall asks. “Because I think he’s probably less bored than horny.”

“Um – Fair point.” Luke admits sheepishly.

“It’s good to know that you’re still going at it like bunnies though.” Niall grins. “We could always tell how good things were between you two by how much you were getting off together, be it in person or electronically.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good measure.” Luke giggles.

“How many has he sent during this lunch?” Niall asks.

“Four.” Luke grins. “And a couple of pictures.”

“Good god.” Niall snorts. “I guess I should let you take care of that. I need to get back to Li anyways. He’s probably climbing the walls by now out of boredom.”

“Tell him I love him.” Luke smiles. “And seriously, Niall – You can call me any time. I’ll always make sure we can find time to talk.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Zayn grumbles.

“Well, believe it.” Niall huffs. “I’ve thought about it over and over again, and this is the only option that I can come up with.”

“I think it’s a good idea.” Liam says with a soft smile.

“Nobody asked you.” Zayn mutters.

“Nobody asked you either, Zee.” Niall points out, slinging an arm over Liam’s shoulder to stop him from pouting.

“I’m your best friend! I get to have a say in your incredibly idiotic plan! Especially when it’s taking place in my flat!” Zayn snaps.

“Listen-” Niall sighs. “I know, okay? I know that it’s idiotic. Do you think I’d be doing this if I could think of anything else, though?”

“After what he did – How – How can you consider giving him another chance, Nialler?” Zayn asks weakly.

“Because he’s my husband, Zee.” Niall answers. “He’s the father of my son. I know how you feel about this, but I have to see where it goes.”

Zayn’s retort is cut off before it starts by the sound of knuckles rapping against the door. Niall takes a deep breath and stands up off of the couch. Liam grabs his wrist, drawing Niall’s attention down to him. He gives Niall a reassuring squeeze of the hand and says, “It’s going to be okay, Ni. We’re here for you, idiotic or not.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out, clutching Liam’s hand tightly before he makes his way to the door. He takes a moment to steady himself, and then unlocks the door and pulls it open. 

“Niall.” Harry whispers, stepping forward and gripping onto Niall’s hands. “I – I-”

“Come on in.” Niall says quietly. “Take one of the armchairs.”

“And then we can talk?” Harry asks. “You’ll let me explain?”

“Just take a seat, Harry.” Niall mumbles.

“Okay.” Harry says weakly, shuffling in with his head down. He looks like a mess, like he did all those years ago when he pressed his hand to the glass and begged Niall for another chance. 

The memory hits Niall hard, the tears on Harry’s cheeks and the tremor in his voice as fresh in Niall’s mind as if it happened yesterday. He thinks about how, if he hadn’t opened the door, hadn’t given Harry that second chance, he could have saved himself so much heartache. But he also would have denied himself eight years of loud laughs, and secret smiles, and tender touches. He would have denied himself of his son, and he absolutely can’t bring himself to think that that could be worth saving himself the pain.

Another knock on the door shakes Niall out of his head, startling Harry in the chair so that he turns around with wide eyes. Niall adamantly doesn’t react to that, instead opening up the door again.

It has to be hurting him to smile like that when his lip is split and his face is still covered in bruises, but Bressie doesn’t let the pain stop him. He cups Niall’s cheek in his hand, pressing their foreheads together and breathing out a sigh of relief before he murmurs, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Niall returns, lifting his hand up to cup over Bressie’s. They both blatantly ignore Liam gasping ‘Holy fuck, he’s huge.’, and instead Niall says, “Come in.”

“What the fuck?” Harry roars, jumping up out of his seat and fuming with his eyes locked on Bressie. “What is he doing here?”

“What is he doing here?” Bressie echoes with a growl, pushing past Niall to stalk towards Harry, who’s coming at him just as angrily. Zayn leans back with an amused smirk playing on his lips, and Liam struggles to try to lift himself off of the couch before Zayn plants a hand on his chest to keep him right where he is, rather than letting him interfere. 

Niall manages to get in between them before a punch can be thrown and yells, “Both of you sit down! I need to speak to both of you, and I’m not going to wait for you two to go another ten rounds, bareknuckle. Stop with the fucking pissing contest, and sit down, or you can leave and never hear from me again. Your choice.”

Harry breaks away first, his lip tugged up in a snarl as he takes his previous seat with his arms folded over his chest. Bressie takes another moment to stop glaring at Harry, but eventually nods at Niall and takes the other armchair. They both scoot to the edges opposite each other, and Niall has to pinch the bridge of his nose to keep himself from snapping at the both of them for acting like children.

“To answer your questions, you’re both here because I need to speak to the two of you, and I didn’t want to do it twice.” Niall says, sitting back down between Zayn and Liam. “This isn’t exactly going to be a fun conversation.”

“It could have been more fun if you’d let them start throwing punches at each other again.” Zayn smirks.

“Zee, that’s completely unnecessary.” Niall sighs.

“I’m just saying.” Zayn shrugs. “Clearly they’re hell-bent on beating each other into two piles of bloody pulp. I say that you should just let them have it out and see who’s left standing. It’s better than your plan.”

“What plan?” Bressie asks.

“How the hell is letting the two of them kill each other a good plan?” Niall asks Zayn incredulously.

“What exactly is going on here?” Harry questions.

“I didn’t say it was a good plan.” Zayn huffs. “I said that it would be entertaining, and that it was a better plan than you dating both of them at the same time.”

“What?” both Harry and Bressie yell simultaneously.

“Damn it, Zee.” Niall groans.

“Niall, what the fuck is he talking about?” Harry asks angrily.

“While that’s not how I was going to introduce the concept-” Niall sighs. “I think Zayn said it pretty comprehensibly, Harry.”

“You want to date us?” Bressie asks. “Both of us?”

“Yes.” Niall admits quietly.

“Why?” Bressie questions.

“Because I can’t just make a choice.” Niall tells them. “I’ve been trying ever since I got here, but I can’t do it. Not yet. I need time, and I need to spend time with both of you to make that choice.”

“We’ve been together for almost nine and a half years!” Harry hisses. “How is that not enough time?”

“We were together for eight years, Harry.” Niall says sharply. “Then you left me for a year in a ploy to get me to react the way you wanted. And after that, you – You fucking bribed a judge to keep me stuck with you. I need time to see if I can ever forgive you for that. For manipulating me like that.”

“He what?” Bressie growls out.

“It’s not like that, Ni-” Harry starts weakly.

“Don’t.” Niall cuts him off harshly. “Stop trying to make excuses for yourself. Accept responsibility for what you did.”

“Alright.” Harry mumbles, sitting back and locking his eyes on his knees. “You’re right.”

“No fucking shit, he’s right!” Zayn snaps, causing Harry to curl in on himself a bit tighter.

“Zayn.” Niall huffs, directing a glare at his friend until he sits back against the couch, muttering curses under his breath.

“How, um – How would this go, if we agreed to it?” Bressie asks.

“First off-” Niall starts to say, only to be interrupted by Zayn.

“No sex.” he says adamantly, which causes Liam to have to stifle a fit of giggles into his hand at Harry and Bressie’s twin expressions of confusion. 

“What, are you his father now?” Harry mutters.

“No.” Zayn growls. “I’m the one who picked up the pieces after you left him because you wanted more attention and couldn’t use your big-boy words to ask for it! I’m the one who he used to score the prescription that he tried to kill himself with! I’m the one who found his body on the ground, and had to induce vomiting and then perform CPR because his heart stopped! I’m not his fucking father, I’m his brother, and I’m going to do my damnedest to protect him from ever going through that again!

“If you’d like though, I can call Bobby, tell him all of the shit you’ve pulled, and pay for him to fly over just to kick your arse. It would be well worth the money to me.”

“I am the only one allowed to speak right now!” Niall snaps. “All four of you need to shut the fuck up and let me talk. This isn’t a fucking joke. It isn’t a pissing contest. This is me proposing something that will help me make a very important decision, because, for once in my fucking life, I’m putting myself first! Does everyone understand that?”

Harry and Bressie both nod, and Zayn just rolls his eyes and waves for Niall to continue, which he does with, “Zayn was right about no sex. It fucks with my judgement, and I don’t think that I’m ready for it yet. Down the line, that may change. I don’t know. I may stay celibate until I make a decision. But when, or if, I decide to have sex with either of you, is up to me.

“As for how this would go, I would see you alternately. I was thinking that Bressie could have Thursdays and Fridays, and Harry could have the weekends, since it’s easier to find a babysitter on those days. That said, if you guys want to work out a different schedule, I’m willing to adjust.

“This – This is about me trying to make a healthy choice for once in my life. I understand if one, or both, of you isn’t on board. This is a lot to ask. I know that. I wish that I could just make this decision, but it’s not that easy for me. I need to do this, but if you can’t, or just don’t want to, that’s okay. I won’t hold that against either of you.”

“I’ll do it.” Harry says immediately once Niall stops talking.

“Harry, you need to take time and think about this.” Niall sighs.

“It’s all I’ve been thinking about for a year and a half, Niall.” Harry says adamantly. “If this is what it takes to get you back, then I’m more than willing.”

“Me too.” Bressie says with every bit as much determination as Harry had. “Except the ‘getting you back’ part, because I know better than to let you go in the first place.”

“Oh really?” Harry scoffs. “Because, from what I remember, you had an affair with him a decade ago, and kicked him out of your house without so much as a shower. You let him go before I even met him.”

“Stop.” Niall huffs. “Both of you, just stop for one fucking minute. I need you both to stop arguing and actually think about this and be sure before you answer, because there’s something else, too.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asks. “What else? You didn’t tell me about anything else.”

“I want Bressie to make his official recommendation to revoke my mental incompetence status.” Niall tells them all. “I’m going back to work part-time, and I’m moving back into my flat. Alone.”

“Fine.” Bressie agrees. “As long as you agree to see another therapist at least three times a week. You’re not recovered, Niall. And the worry I expressed about you practicing medicine hasn’t relieved at all.”

“I’ve already set up an appointment with a new therapist, and Zayn will be around at work to watch me and make sure that I don’t fall back into old patterns.” Niall says quietly. “But I need my own space, and now that Liam is starting PT, he’s well enough to be on his own for most of the day. I’m not suicidal anymore, and I’ll comply with my meds. There’s no reason not to let me have my own life again.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“And, Harry, you’re going to let Bressie’s former position as my therapist go.” Niall adds. “If you even so much as breathe a word about our relationship to the authorities like you threatened, I’ll have you put behind bars for bribing that judge. The opposite goes for you, Bress. And neither of you is pressing charges for assault. You two don’t get to interfere with each other just to try and win me like I’m some fucking prize. This decision is mine, and you have to let me make it.”

“Okay.” Harry consents.

“Fine.” Bressie says quickly.

“Well, I – Uh – I guess that’s really it for tonight.” Niall mumbles. “Unless either of you have any more questions.”

“When does this whole thing start?” Harry asks.

“I guess it can start whenever I’ve moved back into my place.” Niall shrugs.

“I’ll go have your status revoked in the morning.” Bressie tells him. “And I’ll be out of your place in a couple days.”

“Thank you.” Niall smiles.

“You’re still living there?” Harry asks with a scoff.

“Well the original plan was to get him away from you through a court order, and move him back in there with me so that he could focus on recovering, rather than dealing with you.” Bressie bites out. “But it would seem that, once a criminal, always a criminal, so that didn’t exactly go to plan.”

“You want to see what a real criminal is capable of?” Harry growls. “Because everything you’ve seen so far has been just a fucking preview!”

“Jesus Christ!” Niall yells. “Stop fucking fighting, or I’m changing my damn mind and picking neither of you!”

“He started it.” Bressie grumbles.

“We have a five year old son who could make that sound less petulant.” Harry mutters.

“Sociopath.” Bressie huffs.

“Brat.” Harry fires back.

“Get out!” Niall snaps. “Bressie, you first, because I don’t want the two of you fighting on the way downstairs.”

“Why me first?” Bressie asks incredulously.

“Because I have to work out with Harry where my visits with Noah are going to factor into this whole thing.” Niall explains. 

“Oh.” Bressie says softly, standing up out of his chair. “Yeah, of course.”

“We’ll talk more once you’ve found a new place.” Niall tells him, standing up and walking him over to the door. “Goodbye, Bress.”

“Bye.” Bressie whispers, catching Niall by surprise when he leans down and presses a soft kiss against Niall’s lips. He never deepens it, never expects more than the sweet working of lips against each other, but it’s definitely enough to make an impression by the time he pulls back almost a full minute later and adds, “Hopefully I’ll see you on Thursday for our first date.”

“I – Uh – Yeah.” Niall stammers almost drunkenly, his face lighting up with a furious blush. “That – That sounds good. Thursday. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

Bressie gives him a soft smile, and then disappears through the door, closing it gently behind himself. That’s a relief, because just Niall stands there, frozen to the spot with his fingers just barely brushing over his still-tingling lips. He’s only pulled out of the daze by the loud whines of protest that Zayn makes when Liam drags him into their bedroom.

Harry is still sitting in his seat, a scowl fixed on his features even though he’s looking at the back of his hands like they’ve suddenly become the most interesting things in the world.

“I’m surprised.” Niall says after another minute. “You managed not to yell and hit anyone for once.”

“You’re the only one here, and I’d never hit you, Niall.” Harry says quietly.

“There was a time when I never thought you’d hit anyone ever again.” Niall counters. “Not with what you used to have to do. Now it’s happened three times, and I’ve seen it happen twice, and one of those times you did it without any semblance of provocation.”

“It wasn’t without provocation.” Harry huffs. “Your boyfriend was trying to throw me out.”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend at the time, and I asked him to do that.” Niall sighs.

“Whatever.” Harry mutters. “You wanted to talk about Noah?”

“I want my visits back.” Niall tells him, sitting in the armchair that Bressie had just been in, not letting the way Harry’s jealous snarl deepens for just a moment go unnoticed. “And they need to be done without you. It wouldn’t be fair to Bressie to let you use Noah as a way to spend more time with me.”

“So?” Harry scoffs.

“So I’m giving you a chance that you don’t deserve, Harry.” Niall mutters. “After everything you’ve done – I – I shouldn’t be doing this at all. I should just pick Bressie and not even give you a shot. But I am, because our history and our child matter to me. They matter enough for me to try and get past all of the manipulative, controlling shit you’ve pulled.”

“I know.” Harry sighs. “Fuck! I know! I know that I haven’t been a good husband, Ni. I know that. You can have the visits, and they’ll just be you two. But I don’t want Noah anywhere near Bressie. That’s my right as his father. You can have him around anyone else, but not Bressie.”

“Of course.” Niall nods. “I don’t want Noah getting mixed up in this any more than necessary. That wouldn’t be right.”

“Will you let me explain myself at some point?” Harry asks quietly.

“Not right now. I’m too drained to do this right now.” Niall tells him. “Saturday. Unless you need to do different days. Like I said, my schedule is flexible.”

“Saturday will be fine.” Harry agrees. “I don’t mind letting him get in the first couple of dates.”

“Oh, really?” Niall asks curiously.

“Not at all.” Harry says gently. “I’m not blowing smoke here, Niall. I don’t just want you back because I’m jealous. I want you back because I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will. And I believe that you still love me. If you need time to think this out, then that’s fine with me. I don’t have faith in much, but I have faith that the two of us are fate. From the moment I saw you, I’ve been sure of it. That’s never changed. I know we can work through this.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” Niall mumbles, standing up and leading Harry over to the door. “I’ll pick Noah up on Saturday at the usual time.”

“You should call him before then and let him know instead of sneaking around behind my back with your mum.” Harry hums, cupping a hand around Niall’s cheek. “He misses you. We both do.”

“I – I’ll do that.” Niall settles on saying, rather than letting out the ‘I miss you too’ wedged under his tongue. He’s not ready to admit that yet.

“Good night, Niall.” Harry murmurs, drawing Niall up into a kiss that screams of a thousand different things. It’s slow and soft, feeling right for the first time in ages, and Niall melts into it. He lets Harry part his lips and lick into his mouth, not laying claim, but reminding Niall of everything that a kiss can be. Of how it can light up his nerve endings until he feels like he’s burning, but still feel like he’s floating on a cloud at the same time.

And then he’s gone, the sounds of his boots on the hardwood matching the rapid beating of Niall’s heart thumping in his ears. He can’t help himself when he looks down the hall to watch Harry go, and the last thing he sees before Harry disappears is him looking back over his shoulder with that dopey grin that Niall fell in love with all those years ago.

He may not have thought this all through as well as he thought he did. Choosing between Bressie and Harry is going to be even harder than he originally thought.


	11. Chapter 11

Niall breathes in deeply, letting the crisp, sanitized air of the hospital fill his lungs. He’s got a stack of paperwork in his hands that’s going to take hours to get through, but he doesn’t care. Because, soon, he’ll finally be back. He’s still not allowed to operate, not allowed to start his fellowship, but that’s fine for now. He knows that it’s going to take time to get back to his life. This is still a good first step.

He doesn’t have a badge yet, so the doctor’s lounge isn’t open to him. Instead he heads down to the canteen and grabs a table to sit and do his paperwork. He starts patting down his pockets for a pen, and groans at the realization that he must have left it in the office. 

“Need something, Love?” a familiar voice purrs in his ear, nearly making him jump out of his chair.

“Fucking hell, Harry!” Niall hisses, shooting a glare at his ex.

“You should let me take care of that paperwork for you.” Harry hums, setting a cup of coffee down in front of Niall before sliding into the other side of the booth. “We both know that you always smear everything because you’re a leftie. Your handwriting is illegible to almost everyone.”

“How did you even know I was here?” Niall asks. “Only three people know I’m here to do this today. Zayn, Corden, and Louis. Are you stalking me? Because if you’re fucking stalking me, I-”

“Louis called and told me.” Harry smirks, cutting him off. “Believe it or not, he’s on my side. So is Luke.”

“Son of a bitch.” Niall sighs, slumping back in his chair and taking a pull off of the coffee that Harry brought him. Of course it’s exactly fucking perfect, which is nice, but also a little annoying, because Harry isn’t even supposed to be here. “And I suppose you just had to come.”

“It’s a big moment for you, Niall.” Harry says with a gentle smile. “And I’m proud of you for making it back here. I didn’t properly appreciate it the first time around, but I’m trying to now.”

“I – Uh – Thanks.” Niall mumbles, blushing brightly under the weight of Harry’s soft gaze.

“So, do you want me to help you fill all of this out?” Harry offers. “I even have a pen.”

“It’s not really fair to Bressie for you to get to spend time with me outside of your days.” Niall points out.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem for me.” a voice chuckles behind them, immediately crumpling Harry’s smile into a scowl.

“And who told you that I was here?” Niall asks with a sigh.

“Nobody.” Bressie grins, sitting on the edge of the table next to Niall’s, folding his arms over his chest to bring attention to his lab-coat. “I work here now. I started up again yesterday. Just happened to be down here for an apple and some water.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Harry mutters.

“I have to do something while I’m looking for the right place to set up my private practice.” Bressie hums. “And of course I need to rebuild a client-base.”

“Is that clients as a therapist, or as a whore?” Harry snipes. “Just trying to keep track of how many of your patients that you’re shagging at any given point.”

“Only one of us has ever slept with people for a job.” Bressie fires back with a smirk.

“The next one of you to fight gets my coffee in their face!” Niall snaps. “For god’s sake! We are in public!”

“Sorry.” they both mumble dutifully.

“Both of you need to listen to me right now.” Niall says sharply. “I’m not interested in dating children. Act like adults, or we can all forget this whole damn thing and I’ll just choose to be alone. I was literally committed, but you two fighting like this is what’s going to actually drive me crazy.”

He’s fuming by the end of his miniature rant, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. He’d been in such a good mood only a few minutes ago, and of course that’s been soured.

“And, I think that’s my cue to get him out of here.” yet another voice says sternly, much to Niall’s relief.

“Thank god.” Niall mutters, standing up with all of his papers gathered back up in his arms. He leans over and grabs the pen from Harry’s hand, and then says, “Harry, go home. Bressie, go treat patients. Lay off of each other instead of laying into each other. If either of you think that this is what I want, then you need to seriously reconsider.”

He storms off after that with Zayn following closely on his heels. They don’t speak until they reach the lift, Niall mostly listening for someone screaming that they need security in the canteen in case Harry and Bressie just decide to start another brawl. They both seem to agree with Zayn’s plan of just fighting until one of them is left standing, and Niall is about to rip his own hair out from the stress of it all.

“Did you know that Bressie had gotten a job here?” Niall asks once the doors to the lift close.

“No.” Zayn admits. “I just found out a few minutes ago, and I was on my way down to warn you.”

“Louis and Luke are on Harry’s side.” Niall tells him.

“Well I’m Team Bressie.” Zayn mutters.

“I think that’s been well established.” Niall scoffs. “The box of chocolates you had delivered with his name signed to it would have been more convincing if you hadn’t had it say ‘To Nialler’, considering you’re the only one who calls me that.”

“Damn it!” Zayn huffs. “I knew something was off about it.”

“Stop messing around in my love-life, Zee.” Niall sighs. “I need to make this decision on my own.”

“I don’t see how there’s even a decision to make.” Zayn says with a roll of his eyes. “You can either pick the sociopathic ex-husband who manipulates and controls you, or you can pick the gorgeous doctor who would actually be good for you.”

“You remember that Harry and I have a kid together, right?” Niall snaps. “And that, if I pick Bressie, that means limiting myself to eight hours a week with Noah. That might be what happens in the end, Zee, but it has to be my choice. I have to see if there’s a chance that Harry and I can get back to what we used to be. I owe it to him, I owe it to Noah, and I owe it to myself.

“And yeah, Bressie would be good for me. He’s safe, and he’s stable, and I can see a happy future with him. But that future also includes less of my son. So can you just lay off for a minute, and be my best friend again? Because I really need a best friend right now. I’m trying to make the most important decision of my life, and I could use some actual support instead of your judgmental shite.”

“Of course.” Zayn says softly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Of course Noah is a major part of this decision. But – Niall?”

“What?” Niall asks.

“Is Noah the only reason that you’re holding back when it comes to picking Bressie?” Zayn questions.

“No.” Niall admits. “I’m not – I’m not in love with him yet. I might fall in love with him though, if I let myself spend time with him while actually letting myself look at things in that light. There’s real chemistry between us, but until that night – I – I hadn’t let myself think about him like that. It’s still really new, and I’m trying to make the mental transition from him being my friend and therapist into something more.”

“And Harry?” Zayn asks.

“You already know the answer to that.” Niall mumbles.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Zayn sighs.

“It’s not that easy, Zee.” Niall says, squeezing his eyes tight to dam the few traitorous tears that are threatening to leak out. “I’ve been in love with him for almost a decade. We have a son. Do you think I want to want to be with someone who’s done what he’s done to me? Of course I don’t. Having PTSD and depression doesn’t make me stupid. I know that Harry isn’t a healthy choice. I know that. But I love him anyways.”

“I know.” Zayn murmurs, pressing a kiss to Niall’s temple. “And I’m sorry that I haven’t been supportive. I’ll be better about that.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out, letting Zayn lead him off of the lift and into the fellows lounge to do his paperwork in peace.

 

“I know I shouldn’t be looking, but I don’t feel guilty.” Bressie hums, making Niall roll his eyes as he wads up his scrub top and shoves it into his locker. 

“Flirt.” Niall scoffs. “Have you finished up all your paperwork?”

“I’ve been done for an hour. I ended my shift early just, to be positive that I was ready for this.” Bressie grins.

“What, watching me shower?” Niall snorts, stepping out of his trousers and grabbing his towel and shower basket out of his locker. It feels strange not having his own office like he did when he was chief resident, but having the showers in the fellows lounge, which he’s still being allowed to use despite not technically being a fellow yet, is a nice trade-off. “It’s going to take a few more minutes before I’m ready for the date.”

“I knew you wouldn’t make it on time.” Bressie chuckles, following after Niall on his way to the showers.

“It’s not my fault.” Niall huffs. “When eight rolled around, I was in the middle of doing a set of thirty-four sutures on a woman’s arm from where her knife slipped while she was making dinner.”

“I figured that it was something like that.” Bressie nods, eyes locked on Niall when he slides his pants off before stepping behind the shower curtain and turning it on.

“Stop being a lecherous old man.” Niall laughs, moving under the spray once it warms.

“What can I say?” Bressie asks, the smirk on his lips evident in his voice, even though Niall can’t see it through the curtain. “You bring out the lecherous old man in me.”

“Was your wife younger than you too?” Niall asks.

“She was, yes.” Bressie admits. “By ten years. Not quite as big as our age difference, but big enough that her family wasn’t too happy with the marriage.”

“Jesus, how old was she when you got married?” Niall asks, peeking his head out through the curtain.

“Twenty.” Bressie tells him. “You know, most of the time, the interrogation happens once we’ve actually started the date.”

“I guess that I’m just realizing that I don’t actually know that much about you.” Niall sighs, turning back into the shower. “We always talked about me.”

“Well, that’s generally how therapy goes.” Bressie points out. “It’s you talking, and me helping you.”

“Well you’re not my therapist anymore.” Niall muses, rubbing shampoo into his hair. “So, tonight I’m going to learn all about you.”

“If that’s what you want.” Bressie hums. “Although, I should warn you, there’s not very much about me that’s particularly interesting. I’m not quite on the level of intrigue as, say, the secret crime-lord who ran London for five years.”

“There was a rumor back in med-school that you were a pro Gaelic footballer. Any truth to that?” Niall asks, ignoring the dig at Harry.

“For about a minute and a half, yeah. I was a professional rugger too.” Bressie admits, making Niall whip his head around so fast he nearly cracks it.

He pulls back the curtain and asks, “Wait, really? What teams did you play for?”

“Leinster Rugby club, and the Westmeath county team for Gaelic football.” Bressie tells him.

“Holy shit.” Niall breathes out. “You’re that Niall Breslin.”

“Yup.” Bressie nods. 

“My da used to take me to see you play!” Niall laughs. “What are the chances?”

“Want to hear a bigger coincidence?” Bressie asks with a grin. “I lived in Mullingar for most of my life until I went to UCD.”

“No fucking way.” Niall gasps.

“Yeah.” Bressie hums. “But that’s the last bit of information I’m giving you until the date is officially underway. So I guess you should probably hurry up if you want to know more.”

“Go away then.” Niall huffs. “I always talk when I’m in the shower. It drives Haz bonkers.”

“I’ll meet you down in the lobby then.” Bressie agrees. “Don’t keep me waiting, Horan.”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Niall tells him, ducking back under the spray. “But you might as well just head to the restaurant ahead of me and try and keep the reservation.”

“I already pushed back the reservation a few hours ago.” Bressie laughs. “I told you that I knew you’d be late.”

“Go ahead anyways.” Niall tells him. “No reason not to, since we’re taking separate cars.”

“Are we?” Bressie asks.

“Well, yeah.” Niall replies. “There’s no point in you driving me back to the hospital so that I can drive to Zee and Li’s place afterwards to look after Liam. Zayn’s on-call tonight, so I promised I’d sleep over to keep an eye on Li in the morning if Zee gets called in.”

“I thought we could go back to my place after the restaurant.” Bressie says quietly. “Talk a bit more.”

“I – Uh – I don’t think that’s a great idea yet, Bress.” Niall sighs. “We’re not really at that stage of things yet.”

“Of course. Sorry.” Bressie says softly. “I’m getting ahead of myself. I just never really thought that I’d get this chance. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Niall says gently. “Just – Just give me a little while. I like you a lot, Bress. It’s going to take some time to adjust to this though.”

“Did I just muck everything up?” Bressie asks.

“Not at all.” Niall chuckles. “I’ll see you at the restaurant in about fifteen minutes. Just need to finish soaping up and rinse off.”

“I really didn’t need that mental picture right now.” Bressie groans despondently. “I’ll see you there.”

He walks out before Niall can respond to his cheeky comment, not that he would even know where to begin. Luckily, that means that Bressie can’t see his blush though.

 

“Oh my god, Zee.” Niall sighs dreamily, crashing down on top of his friend’s lap.

“That good?” Zayn smiles.

“It was amazing.” Niall admits. “He – He’s fascinating.”

“That’s a good start.” Zayn chuckles. “Tell me everything.”

“So, he took me to Amaya.” Niall starts. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten food that good? Like – I got used to it with Harry, because his cooking was amazing, but – I can’t actually remember the last time I ate in a restaurant like that. Harry was always trying to go out to eat, but with my schedule – I just couldn’t make it work. Or I just didn’t try to make it work, I guess. And ever since we separated, I haven’t exactly felt like going out and paying a bunch of money to eat alone. So tonight was the first time I’ve eaten food like that since-”

“Since Harry. I get it.” Zayn cuts him off. “The date, Niall. How was the date?”

“I was getting there.” Niall huffs. “But since you’re so impatient, I’ll just skip ahead. He – he’s funny. And he’s charming. And we have so much more in common than I originally thought. Did you know that he lived in Mullingar for most of his life until he went to UCD? Or that he plays guitar?”

“Now that’s a fucking coincidence.” Zayn says thoughtfully. 

“There’s a bigger one, believe it or not.” Niall says quietly. “Do you remember the day I got shot?”

“Obviously.” Zayn scoffs.

“No, I mean the date.” Niall mutters. “It was October twenty-second. That’s his birthday.”

“No fucking way.” Zayn breathes out.

“And that’s not all.” Niall tells him. “Remember that rumor back in med-school that Bressie had been a professional Gaelic footballer? He was. And my da used to take me to see him play. And – get this – His ex-wife is Roz Purcell, who my da has a picture of hanging in his garage.”

“Jesus Christ.” Zayn laughs. “And I thought it was supposed to be you and Harry who were fated to be together.”

“Don’t.” Niall says sharply, sitting up off of Zayn’s lap. “Don’t do that. Don’t trivialize what Harry and I have, just because Bressie and I’s relationship has a few coincidences.”

“Niall, think about it.” Zayn says gently. “You were the first guy that Bressie ever had sex with. Over a decade later, you two find each other again, in Haiti of all places, because you both happened to be working for MSF. Your father took you to see him play when you were just a kid. For god’s sake, he’s from the same little town that you’re from. That’s more than just ‘a few coincidences’.

“And I’m not trying to ‘trivialize what you and Harry have’. I’m just pointing out that you and Bressie being together is like some sort of epic love story. There’s all of these interconnected little puzzle-pieces, and that’s amazing. You have to admit that it’s a bit insane.”

“I had my ‘epic love story’ already, Zee.” Niall says quietly. “It was Harry. And the thing about ‘epic love stories’ is that they don’t have happy endings. Romeo and Juliet. Samson and Delilah. Tristan and Isolde. None of them have happy endings. Love that strong gets you hurt. It kills you in the end, one way or another.”

“Then are you going to end things with Harry?” Zayn asks.

“Of course I’m not.” Niall mumbles. “Because love that strong isn’t something that you just toss away, either. Not if you can help it.”

“I really don’t understand you, Nialler.” Zayn sighs. “I don’t know how you can keep opening yourself up to being hurt like this. Not after what happened when he left you.”

“Because I still have hope that, this time, he won’t hurt me.” Niall admits. “That we can fix what went wrong on both ends of our marriage. Maybe we can’t, but I can’t give up hope on that until I know for sure that it’s a lost cause.”

“So are you just leading Bressie on?” Zayn asks.

“No.” Niall says, shaking his head. “I care about him, and I can see a future there. I told you that already. I’m just trying to give myself a chance to see what they both have to offer. What kinds of lives we could have together.”

“You know that at least one person is going to get hurt by the end of this, right?” Zayn questions. “Maybe more.”

“I do.” Niall nods. “And that’s why I gave them the choice to try this with me. They both know that I’m only going to choose one of them in the end. I gave them the choice to walk away to avoid getting hurt more. They know what they’re signing up for.”

“How do you always have so many men in love with you?” Zayn scoffs.

“I don’t know.” Niall chuckles. “You’d know the answer to that better than I would.” 

“Well, in my experience-” Zayn hums. “It’s because you shine like the sun. Of course, that was a very long time ago, and you’ve turned into a bit of a wanker since then.”

“Arse.” Niall huffs, grabbing a throw-pillow and smacking Zayn in the arm with it. “Go away. We both need to sleep as much as we can. You may get called in, and I have another date tomorrow. I can’t charm Bressie if I’m sleep deprived.”

“Since when are you ever charming?” Zayn snorts. 

“That’s it. I’m officially done with you being my best mate.” Niall growls. “It’s back to being Louis again. Or Luke. Probably Luke.”

“As if.” Zayn giggles, leaning over and pressing a sloppy kiss to Niall’s cheek. “But I’ll leave you alone now. You’re right about me needing the sleep.”

“That’s better.” Niall sighs contentedly. “Go get your beauty rest and leave me to bask in my post-date bliss.”

“One more question.” Zayn says seriously. “Did you kiss him?”

“I’m not telling.” Niall laughs, jumping off of the couch and scurrying to the guest bedroom. He gets the door shut before Zayn can chase after him, and smiles at the loud, unhappy groan that Zayn lets out, all the while touching his lips because of the way they’re still tingling over half an hour after Bressie pushed him against his car door and snogged him thoroughly before parting ways. Zayn just doesn’t need to know that.

 

“How’s the search for a practice going?” Niall asks, twirling his spaghetti around his fork.

“I haven’t gone to look at any yet.” Bressie admits. “I’ve got a real estate agent taking me out tomorrow to look into properties. I’m still trying to figure out a budget, though. I haven’t exactly been getting paid consistently over the last decade, since I started doing MSF. I’ve got a decent chunk in savings, but I have to be careful.”

“How many projects have you gone on?” Niall asks.

“Haiti made twenty-four.” Bressie answers. “Most of them were six weeks, but some of them were longer. I tried to do at least two a year. Sometimes I managed to fit in another one.”

“Holy shit.” Niall breathes out. “Now my two trips before I got kicked out seems pitiful.”

“You’re forgetting a few things.” Bressie hums. “Like that I didn’t have any reason to stay here, and that I’ve been practicing a lot longer than you have. Ten years ago, I was already finished with my training. The fact that you went on two projects while juggling a residency is impressive.”

“Not really.” Niall mutters. “I was only going so that I could run away from my problems.”

“Everyone has their reasons for doing things, Niall.” Bressie says gently. “That doesn’t mean that the good that you did should be discounted.”

“My second deployment lasted exactly two weeks, and then I got shot playing hero. What good?” Niall scoffs.

“Do you remember a little girl named Madeline?” Bressie asks, pulling out his mobile.

“The girl I butchered by taking half of her limbs?” Niall asks bitterly. “Yeah. I remember her.”

“One of the MSF doctors who’s still there sent me this picture last week. I asked them to keep tabs on her through the IBESR.” Bressie says, placing his mobile in front of Niall. “She got adopted, Niall. She’s got prosthetics, and she’s taken to them beautifully. She’s in school again. Look at what you did for her, and then ask me that question again.”

“I – I–” Niall chokes out, tears welling up in his eyes at the picture in front of him. She looks so different than she had on Niall’s table, now that she’s clean and smiling and holding up a sign between her real hand and her prosthetic one that reads, ‘Merci beaucoup, Dr. Horan.’

“You did good things over there, Niall.” Bressie says gently. “You didn’t get to stay long enough to see that, but you did good things. Don’t think less of yourself just because you didn’t go there for wholly unselfish reasons.”

“Can you send this to me?” Niall asks quietly, rubbing the tears out of his face. “I think I’m going to need it to remind myself of that.”

“Of course.” Bressie nods, tapping on the screen of his mobile a few times until Niall’s buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out, and sets the picture as the background on his mobile, replacing a picture of him on the couch with Zayn and Liam on Harry’s birthday. His lock screen is still Noah’s school picture though. He won’t change that.

“Did I just ruin our date by crying?” Niall asks.

“No.” Bressie smiles at him. “Don’t worry about it. I thought it might happen when I showed you the picture. I’ve been meaning to show you for a while, but you weren’t taking my calls, and I just kind of forgot about it until now.”

“I needed time to sort things out.” Niall sighs. “I know that I wasn’t being fair to you, because you didn’t do anything wrong, but I couldn’t talk to you until I figured out what to do about this whole thing. It wouldn’t have been fair to you, Harry, or myself.”

“I figured that all out already.” Bressie nods along. “I get this, Niall. I understand what you’re doing, and why you’re doing it.”

“I have to ask you a question.” Niall says quietly. “If – If I choose you, will you be okay with Noah and Harry still being a part of my life?”

“I adore Noah, and I can handle dealing with Harry.” Bressie hums. “I know how important your son is to you.”

“And how important are kids to you?” Niall asks. “Because I don’t think I’m up for another one. I really don’t. So if you want one, then-”

“Relax, Niall.” Bressie says calmly, placing his hand over Niall’s. “If kids wouldn’t be in the cards for us, that’s okay.”

“You said that you wanted a family.” Niall mutters.

“There are lots of different kinds of families, Niall.” Bressie smiles. “If ours would just be the two of us, sharing Noah with Harry, I’d be okay with that. I would never force you into doing something that you didn’t want to. Especially having more kids.”

“Harry doesn’t want Noah around you.” Niall admits. “And I have to respect that. I can’t risking another custody battle when Harry can show the judge the papers that I signed to relinquish custody, and bring up my time in a mental ward. I’d lose that fight.”

“He’d change his mind eventually, Niall.” Bressie says quietly. “If you choose me, he’ll have to change his mind about that. He wants you to be a part of Noah’s life.”

“He might not, if I choose you.” Niall sighs. “He – He’s just – He’s so – You know?”

“You didn’t use an adjective.” Bressie points out.

“I know.” Niall groans, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Fuck. Okay, I’m not going to mention Haz anymore tonight. I promise. I’m going to need you to pick a new subject, and then everything will be fine, and I’ll stop being an idiot.”

“What was the most interesting case you had today?” Bressie asks.

“You first.” Niall grins, relieved that this is something he knows how to talk about without embarrassing himself anymore. Bressie gets this part of him. Harry, in all the years that they were together, never asked Niall about his cases. Sure, he’d ask if Niall had had a good day, but if Niall started going in depth about his work, Harry would tune out or fall asleep within a few minutes. Bressie, on the other hand, is extremely interested.

“Oh my god.” Bressie laughs. “I took on a new client. He’s a balding man with peladophobia and an allergy to the active ingredient in Rogaine. You’re going to love this.”

He launches into the story, and Niall sets his fork down to listen. It strikes him how nice this is, how good it feels to be with someone who doesn’t make him feel like his work is boring or unimportant. Someone who gets him in a way that only Zayn ever had before. It would be nice coming home to this every day, and he can see that future more clearly now than ever.

 

Dropping Noah off with Gemma is awkward. She’s obviously trying to be polite, but Niall can tell that she’s angry with him. It’s no surprise. Harry and Gemma had grown a lot closer after Noah was born, after she’d quit the restaurant and gone back to school full time with Harry paying all her bills. Not that Niall resented her for that. She’d finally gotten her life straightened out, and Niall couldn’t be happier for her. So what if she needed some help? Everybody does sometimes.

The point is that she obviously knows all of what’s happening with Bressie and Harry and everything else, and it’s making things awkward. Well, she is. Niall is just used to this by now. Explaining what was going on to his mother was a lot more awkward than any other conversation that he’s ever had, so, at this point, nothing fazes him.

“I, uh – I was wondering if I could talk to Olli.” Niall mumbles after Noah rushes off to put his things in the room he sleeps in at Gemma’s house.

“He’s in the sitting room.” Gemma tells him. “I can barely get a word out of him sometimes. Teenagers. So – Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Niall says with a nod, heading off towards where Gemma had gestured before disappearing after Noah. Oliver is sitting on the sofa, curled up with his nose buried in a book. Niall isn’t surprised by that. It’s how he’s always been. What he is surprised by is the scowl that paints Oliver’s features when he notices Niall. Niall sits on the couch next to him, placing a paper bag on the table, and sighs when Oliver pulls in tighter on himself. “Olli, I wanted to talk to you.”

“That’s funny, considering I haven’t heard from you in over a year.” Oliver mutters.

“I know.” Niall says quietly. “I’m sorry for that, Olli. I really am. I shouldn’t have let what happened between me and Harry get in the way of my relationship with you.”

“No. You shouldn’t have.” Oliver grumbles. “But I’ve gotten over it. I’m used to it by now. You don’t need to keep pretending to care about me anymore.”

“Olli, I’ve never ‘pretended to care about you’.” Niall says firmly. “I love you. Even if Harry and I are divorced, that doesn’t change. I know that I’m not technically your uncle anymore, but I still think of you as family.”

“Don’t.” Oliver says sharply, slamming his book shut. “Don’t say that after you broke your promise.”

“What promise?” Niall asks.

“When – When we met, you promised you wouldn’t leave.” Oliver breathes out shakily. “You promised, Uncle Niall.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall mumbles. “God – I’m so sorry, Olli.”

“Everyone leaves.” Oliver chokes out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “My dad, and grandma and grandpa, and you. Why does everyone always leave?”

“Come here.” Niall murmurs, pulling Oliver against his chest when the boy begins to cry openly. “I’m not going to leave again. Whatever happens between me and your uncle, I’m going to stick around. I promise, Olli. I promise.”

“You promised before.” Oliver sobs, clutching tightly to Niall’s shirt.

“I know, and I can’t apologize enough for breaking that promise.” Niall says gently. “But it’s not going to happen again, Olli. I won’t let it.”

“Pick him.” Oliver whispers. “Please pick him, Uncle Niall.”

“What do you know, and how?” Niall sighs. Oliver is too smart to try to play this off, so he resigns himself to having the conversation.

“That you’re dating Uncle Harry and some other bloke named Bressie at the same time, and you’re trying to pick between them.” Oliver admits. “And that Uncle Harry did a really bad thing to you. I overheard him talking to my mum about it one night. I know that he hurt you, Uncle Niall, but – Please pick him. Please.”

“It’s not that easy, Olli.” Niall mutters. “You’re so smart – Smarter than me even – But there are some things that you can’t know yet. Some things you have to learn through experience. Sometimes forgiveness and trust can be earned back, and sometimes they can’t. I’m still trying to figure out if I can forgive or trust your Uncle Harry ever again, and that’s going to take time and work.”

“But you did things too!” Oliver says desperately. “You did bad things, and he forgave you for them! He still loves you so much, Uncle Niall! Please! Please take him back! He needs you!”

“Oliver, go to your room.” a stern voice says behind them, making Oliver stiffen in place. His face goes from distraught to stormy before he grabs his book and stomps out of the room past his mother, grumbling curses in Irish that Niall is suddenly ashamed for teaching him. Gemma sighs and adds, “I’m sorry about that. He – He just adores you so much. You were like a substitute for his father in a lot of ways. I think that he’s afraid I won’t let him see you anymore if you pick this other bloke.”

“Is that the case?” Niall asks quietly.

“No.” Gemma says, shaking her head. “I know we haven’t seen eye-to-eye lately, but you’re family to me, Niall. You’re the one that never tried to contact me or Olli.”

“I know. I seem to be an expert at fucking up relationships with the people I love.” Niall mumbles, standing up and grabbing the bag. “Just so you know, these aren’t bribes for forgiveness. I don’t expect that. They’re your missed birthday and Christmas gifts since Harry filed for divorce.”

He pulls out a set of four familiar blue boxes and says, “They’re all from the same collection, so you can mix and match any of them together.”

“My god, Niall!” Gemma gasps, opening each box up in turn. “How did you afford all of this?”

“My shark of a divorce lawyer.” Niall admits. “I thought that Harry’s money would be better spent on you and Olli than on me. I was thinking about a car for Olli, but thought you might kill me for it. Not to mention he’s still a bit young. Instead there are four Waterstones gift-cards in here for him. They’re each one-hundred pounds. I’d have gone higher, but apparently that’s the limit. Four hundred pounds worth of books should keep him busy for a few days though. Possibly.”

“He’ll love that.” Gemma smiles, taking the bag from Niall. “You didn’t have to do all of this though. We’d rather just get to see you every once in a while.”

“I promised Olli that I won’t disappear again, and I won’t.” Niall tells her. “I’d like to start coming around occasionally. Or maybe we can meet up for dinner every once in a while? And – And I was hoping that maybe I could be the one to take him to use those gift-cards. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“That sounds lovely.” Gemma hums. “You should probably get going for tonight though. Harry texted me not that long ago, panicking because you’re late. He thinks that you’ve stood him up.”

“Oh lord.” Niall sighs. “I probably should then, yeah. It was nice seeing you again, Gems. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Niall.” Gemma says softly, pecking Niall on the cheek and walking him to the front door. She opens it, and Niall steps out, but before he can take another step, Gemma says, “I – I know that it isn’t my place to say this, but I really hope you’ll give him a chance, Niall. I know that he’s done a lot of wrong things, but he loves you so much. If you have no intention of choosing him, then break it off now. That’ll be easier for everyone in the long run.”

“I’m giving him as much of a clean slate as I can.” Niall says quietly, keeping his eyes locked on the street, rather than Gemma. “I know that I wasn’t innocent in the dissolution of our marriage, and I’m trying to fix what went wrong on my end. I’m trying to make this work, Gemma. I’m not just stringing him along. I’m just not going to let go of a guy that I know that I could be happy with, just to take a roll of the dice on a relationship that’s already failed once.”

“I understand.” Gemma mumbles before closing the door.

Niall makes his way down and climbs into his car, starting it up and heading towards Harry’s house. Gemma lives in the same general area as Zayn and Liam, which means that she’s not too close to Harry’s, but it’s also not incredibly far. Niall makes it to Harry’s in about fifteen minutes, thanking the universe for not sending a lot of traffic for once.

Harry gave him a remote to open up the gate this morning when he picked up Noah, so he pulls right in and parks, making his way up to the door. Harry pulls it open about a minute after he knocks with an easy smile and says, “Hey. There you are.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Niall says politely, stepping inside and toeing off his boots. They’ve decided not to go out tonight, choosing instead to talk at Harry’s place about what happened, in case it ends up in another fight. Niall isn’t sure he could keep himself in check in public enough to have this conversation, and they need to be allowed to express themselves fully if they’re ever going to have a chance to move on from all of the shit in their way. “I needed to talk with Olli, and I gave them the presents from the holidays that I’ve missed.”

“I know.” Harry smiles. “Gemma sent me a picture of her wearing the necklace, the earrings, the bracelet, and the ring. You really went all out.”

“I don’t need all of the money that I got in the divorce.” Niall shrugs. “I can afford all of my bills with my salary.”

“Then why fight for all of that money?” Harry asks.

“I was mad at you.” Niall admits. “Halfway through everything though, I realized it was stupid to try taking your money as some sort of revenge. That’s why I dropped my offer from fifty percent of your net worth, to ten. My solicitor wouldn’t let me go any lower. He was getting twenty percent of my settlement, and he wanted a payday. Of course all he told me was that I needed that money in order to take care of myself, and Noah in case anything ever happened to you, since you were probably changing your will to give it to Gemma.”

“Twenty?” Harry squawks. “Twenty percent? That’s fucking robbery!”

“I know.” Niall nods. “But this isn’t what I came over for us to talk about, Harry. If you want to discuss this, that’s fine, but maybe it should go on the back burner for now.”

“Of course.” Harry agrees, leading Niall into the kitchen. He heads straight towards a glass of wine, taking a deep gulp, and Niall can’t help but wish that he were allowed to drink as well. But alcohol and his meds don’t mix well, and neither do an inebriated Niall and Harry. Actually, that’s a lie. They mix very well. Very, very fucking well. Niall just can’t let that happen tonight.

“I don’t even know where to start.” Harry mumbles, handing Niall a plate of food and a glass of water before walking out with his own plate and his wine, with a bottle tucked under his arm.

“I think telling me why you were bribing the judge to trap me here would be a good start.” Niall says, feigning a calm that he doesn’t really feel as he sits down at the table.

“I – I wasn’t doing it to trap you, Niall.” Harry says quietly. “I was doing it because I needed to buy time. I needed time to figure out how to tell you that I’m still in love with you, and that I want you back.”

“I was here for weeks, Harry.” Niall sighs. “Almost two months, actually. You had time.”

“Do you even understand what it’s like to be in love with someone who hates you?” Harry asks weakly. “Someone who would rather be in a mental ward than with you? It’s not as easy as just saying it. I was trying to get us to a point where you wouldn’t just punch me in the face if I said it. But you kept fighting and yelling and hating me. I was trying so hard, Ni.”

“No, Harry, you weren’t.” Niall says icily. “You were manipulating me, like you always do. You’re a fucking puppeteer, and you expect me to just dance whenever you pull the strings. It’s how you’ve always been. Since day one, you’ve been controlling and manipulative.”

“Do you think I want to be this way?” Harry asks harshly. “Don’t you think that I want to be better than that?”

“I haven’t seen any evidence that you’ve ever even tried to be better than that!” Niall hisses. “You’ve pulled a lot of shit in the years that we were together, but this time was too much, Harry. I don’t know if I can get past this one.”

“I was going to sign over your power of attorney once I’d told you, Niall.” Harry says softly. “I just needed to figure out how to tell you what I needed to tell you first. And that wasn’t exactly easy with you and Bressie always going at it. Every time I turned around you two were all over each other. Your room, the gym, that flirting while we were sick – And I kept overhearing Zayn constantly talking about the two of you together, and – And I just couldn’t even figure out if I even should tell you. I couldn’t figure out if I even had a shot.”

“Up until that night, Bressie and I hadn’t been anything at all other than patient and therapist, Harry.” Niall sighs. “What you walked in on in my room was him comforting me. Over you, by the way. And in the gym was him bringing me down from a panic attack. Zayn was talking, but that doesn’t mean I was listening. There was some chemistry – yeah – But I didn’t expect anything to come from it. It wasn’t until you went out with Xander, and Noah made me read your copy of ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’, on the same night that Bressie confessed to having feelings for me, that I even considered him. I was overwhelmed, and he was an easy answer.”

“Then what are you doing with him now?” Harry asks.

“I’m trying to see if the easy answer is the right one.” Niall admits. “Because Bressie is the easy answer, Harry. He’s kind, and patient, and funny, and attractive, and he gets me in a way that you never have or will. He loves me in a way that feels good to be loved. Not everything is a fight with him, like it was for us. Sometimes – Sometimes the easiest answer is the best one.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be easy, Niall.” Harry murmurs, standing up and walking around the table to take the seat next to Niall. “It’s not supposed to be as hard as it was for us sometimes, but it’s also not supposed to be easy. It’s late nights, and long fights, and clawing your way through the mud. It’s standing up on the other side, and slipping your hand into your partner’s, because you made it together. You never fought for us, Niall. You fought me, but you never fought for me.”

“I know.” Niall mumbles. “I know I didn’t. I just – I guess I always thought that we’d get through it somehow. You were right when you said that I took you for granted, because I always thought that we were a sure thing, no matter how bad it got sometimes. I didn’t think I should have to work on us, because I was working on my career. I’m not trying to absolve myself for the sins I committed during our marriage, Harry. Not anymore. I’m just trying to see if it’s even worth saving anymore.

“Because I’m trying to be better, but I can’t guarantee that you’d always be my priority if I choose you. I can’t say that my focus will always be here. I’m not quitting my career, because it’s a part of who I am. I need to help people. I’m not the kind of person who can turn my back on someone in need of my help, just because we have dinner plans.

“And, honestly, I’m not sure if I can take any more of your schemes. I don’t like being manipulated, Harry. You know that, but you do it anyways. You expect me to know what you want without telling me. You try to force me into decisions I’m not ready to make. You control me. I can’t keep coming back to that.”

“You’re not the only one who’s trying to be better, Niall.” Harry says softly. “I’m trying to change as well. I’m trying to be direct about what I want. I’m trying so hard to be better for you. It’s going to take time for me to shake off the way that I was conditioned to think by – By him. He taught me to be this way, Niall. He taught me to manipulate a situation by any means necessary to get the result I wanted, and that’s who I needed to be back then. It’s still in here though. It’s still my strongest instinct, because it was literally beaten into me.

“Control is – It’s something that I didn’t have much of for a long time. So now I hold onto it too tightly. Things happened to me back then, things that took control of my life, and – And my body – away from me. Once I became the Cat, I swore never to let that happen again. I made sure of it. I was trained to be a master at controlling other people, and it kept me safe. I know that it’s no excuse, and I’m not trying to make it one. I’m just trying to explain that I wasn’t always this way, and I’m trying not to be anymore.”

“What do you mean you lost control of your body?” Niall asks.

“You know what I mean, Niall.” Harry whispers.

“How – How did you never tell me about that?” Niall questions.

“Because I never wanted to admit that I’d been that weak.” Harry mutters. “When you met me, I’d gotten past it. I’d taken my power back. I’d become someone strong, and I didn’t want you to think of me as anything other than being that strong. I wanted you to believe that I was someone who could protect you, because that would make it easier for me to believe it too, and I needed to believe it. I needed to believe that I could protect the one truly important thing in my life. Never, even in my darkest nightmares, did I think the thing you’d need protection from was me.

“I didn’t mean for everything to get this out of hand. I didn’t mean to turn into the man who manipulated his husband so often that neither of us could even tell it was happening sometimes. I didn’t mean to let my fears take over me to the point where we stopped having a real relationship, and instead lived inside of some kind of fucked up dance that I was choreographing from moment to moment.”

“But you did, Harry.” Niall whispers. “You – You’ve done this so much that I don’t even know what’s real anymore, and what isn’t. I don’t know what choices I made, and what ones you made for me without me even realizing it. And I don’t know if what you’re saying now is you being genuine, or you just doing it all over again. Because, I – I’ve been waiting for so long to hear you finally admit that I wasn’t the only problem in our marriage, and it seems almost surreal when you do it.”

“I’m being honest, Niall.” Harry says, his tone just shy of desperate. “I’m putting it all out in the open, because I know that’s the only way we stand a chance of figuring this out. I know it’s going to take so much time and work for you to trust me again, but I’m trying here.”

“I don’t know if trying is enough.” Niall mutters. “Because I don’t know if I can forgive you, never mind whether or not I should. I – I think I should go.”

“Is this it, then?” Harry asks unsteadily. “Did I blow my only chance?”

“No.” Niall says gently, standing up from his chair and walking towards the door. He doesn’t need to look to know that Harry is following him. “I just need time to think this over. I need to think about what you told me, and try to accept it.”

“Am I wasting my time here, Niall?” Harry asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t care if I am, I’m more than willing to waste as much time as I’m allowed with you, but I need to know. I’ve loved you for almost ten years, and I’ll wait another ten for you to make a choice, if that’s what it takes. I’ll wait forever for you, Niall. But I need you to tell me if you even think there’s a shred of hope for us to get back what we used to have. I need to know if I’m wasting my time loving a man who can never love me back again.”

“I still do.” Niall admits. “God help me, I still love you, Harry. You’re not wasting your time.”

He flies forward, pressing himself flush against Harry’s body while their lips find each other by instinct. It’s hard and heavy right from the start, all groping hands and tongues fighting each other as they stumble backwards. Going up a spiral staircase without separating is a skill that had taken a long time to master, but Niall finds that it comes back to him as easily as riding a bike, even if they only seem to take one step at a time before one of them ends up being pushed against the wall or railing on their journey.

Their shirts are gone by the time they finally stumble fully into the bedroom, and their trousers are on the floor before they land on the bed. Harry’s hands are tight on Niall’s neck as he scoots himself backwards, keeping them locked together until they’re in a more advantageous position for Niall to grind down into him.

“I thought – You said – No sex.” Harry pants out between heated kisses.

“Shut up.” Niall huffs, catching Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“Niall, stop.” Harry whimpers, his hands gripping tighter around the back of Niall’s neck despite his request. “I don’t want to mess this up by having sex with you when you aren’t ready yet.”

“Oh my god!” Niall groans. “I’m ready!”

“But – But you said–” Harry stammers.

“That was to even the playing field for Bressie.” Niall admits. “Because you and I have mind-blowing sex, and I thought it wouldn’t be fair to him. But I don’t care right now. Do you?”

“No.” Harry grunts, pulling Niall back down and licking into his mouth so hard it makes his head spin. He flips them over so that he’s on top, grinding down and pulling a debauched moan out of Niall’s lips. “What do you want to do?”

“What did you do with Xander?” Niall asks.

“He fucked me.” Harry sighs.

“Then I’m going to fuck you better than he did.” Niall growls.

“Don’t do that.” Harry murmurs, pressing his forehead against Niall’s and kissing him softly. “Please don’t turn this into a competition between the two of you. There’s no competition. He meant nothing to me. I love you, and only you, Niall. I want to make love to you, not just have a jealous shag. You can top if you want, that doesn’t matter to me, but please don’t taint this for us. Don’t make this about anybody else. Not Bressie, not Xander, just you and me. Please.”

“Okay.” Niall breathes out. “Just you and me.”

“Thank you.” Harry whispers, pressing his lips against Niall’s in a slow kiss, sweet and soft and syrupy. He smirks when he adds, “That doesn’t mean you have to go easy on me though.”

“Oh, I didn’t plan on it.” Niall hums, working his mouth along the line of Harry’s jaw. “Because, even without making it about anyone else, I’m mad at you. I’m going to fuck you hard enough that you won’t be able to sit tomorrow.”

“There’s something I want to do first though.” Harry murmurs, turning Niall’s head to the side with his own face to catch the spot behind Niall’s ear and nip at it, making Niall’s fingers clench in the duvet with a high whine.

“No marks.” Niall whimpers, writhing as Harry latches onto the spot and sucks hard. “You can’t leave marks. People will see.”

“Fine.” Harry huffs, releasing Niall’s skin from between his teeth.

“What do you want to do?” Niall asks, groaning as Harry starts working his way down.

“I want to see them. I want to touch them.” Harry breathes out, making Niall shiver with the implication. “Can I?”

“They’re sensitive.” Niall whispers.

“I’ll be gentle.” Harry promises, crawling backwards until his face is hovering over Niall’s chest. He doesn’t do anything at first, just looks at the scars with a mix of curiosity and concern. Then his warm breath fans over the pinkened, puckered skin of Niall’s gunshot scar, and he arches off of the bed with a gasp. 

It’s like lightning striking him, like his entire body is on fire, but in such a brilliant way. Harry pushes him back into the mattress by the hips, and then closes the gap between them by pressing his lips to the bullet wound on Niall’s chest.

“Oh my god!” Niall moans, broken and pitchy because he can’t catch his breath. It should hurt, he knows that it should hurt, but it just feels – Indescribable. He’s running fiery hot and icy cold at the same time, and electricity is thrumming through his veins at a frequency he’s never felt before.

“Am I hurting you?” Harry asks.

“No.” Niall chokes out. “No. Feels good.”

“I hate that this happened to you.” Harry murmurs between soft kisses placed along the length of the incision on Niall’s side.

“It wasn’t exactly a party for me.” Niall mutters, shivering when Harry’s tongue swipes over the scar. It’s like sandpaper on raw nerves, painful in only the best way. Every lick and kiss and nip feels like Niall is standing in the center of a hurricane, the elements having their way with him, and he isn’t sure if he’s about to explode, or if he’s going to collapse in on himself completely until he’s compressed down into nothing.

When he can’t take anymore, he pulls Harry up into another kiss, and growls out against his lips, “Get on your back.”

Harry follow the instruction immediately, holding tight onto Niall to bring him along until he’s got Harry pinned under him, rutting up against him mindlessly while Niall grinds down against him in return. Their lips are working against each other furiously, and the sounds coming out of Harry are glorious. Niall could live with them as his only sustenance for the rest of his life.

“Do – Do you have anything?” Niall asks, breaking away from Harry once he becomes too worked up to settle for this little.

“In the drawer.” Harry answers quickly, shoving his fingers under the waistband of Niall’s pants and pushing them down until Niall’s cock springs out. Niall returns the favor, sitting back to pull Harry’s pants all of the way off before he kicks off his own and heads for the drawer.

“What’s that for?” Harry asks when Niall returns with lube, a rag, and a condom from the box in the drawer.

“Well, I put it on my penis, and it helps prevent me from catching an STI that you may have gotten from your whore.” Niall snarks.

“I don’t have an STI!” Harry growls.

“Are you sure?” Niall asks harshly. “You trust him that much?”

“We used a condom!” Harry hisses.

“Which begs the question, why did you have them, Harry?” Niall asks. “If he was just a one-time thing, why did you have a ridiculously huge box of condoms? Thirty six seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?”

“For when I was ready to start dating again.” Harry sighs. “I bought them the day that you signed the papers, because I was angry, and that seemed like a way to make it clear to myself that I was alone now. I figured that, if you’d been shagging Bressie, I should get out there, because we were really over. 

“Only, when I tried going to bars, I spent all night talking about my husband to anyone who would listen. And when I tried setting up dating profiles, I quit, because they made me cry. And when I got a night with a Painted Rose, a present from the club for my divorce, so that I could try and fuck you out of my system, I stood him up. I spent months trying and trying and trying to move on, and I couldn’t do it. 

“And if you’ll notice, only one is gone from the box. One single condom is gone from that ‘ridiculously huge box’, because the only way that I could even manage to try to move on was by getting drunk and letting a friend try to comfort me. Only, it wasn’t comforting. It was horrible. I hated every second of it. It was the worst sex I’ve ever had, because it wasn’t you. That’s why I have condoms. Because I wanted to try and be someone who could live without you.”

“I’m still using a condom until you get tested.” Niall tells him.

“I’ll set up an appointment for Monday.” Harry concedes.

“Don’t do it at the hospital.” Niall mutters. “Too many people know you there, and I don’t need anyone coming to tell me that my ex came in for an STI panel. I’m already the basket-case who isn’t allowed to operate because I was committed. People already look at me with so much pity. I don’t want more.”

“I’ll see my GP.” Harry mumbles. “Noah’s due for a checkup anyways, and his paediatrician is in the same building.”

“Do – Do you still want to do this?” Niall asks.

“Only if you do.” Harry says quietly. “Ni, if you aren’t ready for this-”

“I’m ready.” Niall cuts him off. “That’s not – That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Harry questions.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to look at you the same.” Niall admits in a whisper. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to look at you like this, and not see you with him. I don’t know how to not picture him touching you, and kissing you, and fucking you.”

“I know.” Harry murmurs. “Because when I look at you, I see you on the couch with Bressie on top of you, kissing him. I see him kissing you in Zayn and Liam’s place. I see you two curled up together in that bed, or clinging to each other in the gym, or- Or what I walked in on that night, and it makes me want to vomit. It makes me want to punch through a fucking wall. It makes me want to kill him, Niall. I don’t just mean that it makes me angry, but I mean that I literally want to kill him. I want to see him zipped up in a bag and make sure he never touches you again.”

“That’s a bit more intense than mine.” Niall chuckles. “I just picture Xander getting in a horrible, crazy trauma after which I have to perform a radical penectomy to save his life.”

“Penectomy?” Harry asks.

“Surgical amputation of the penis.” Niall explains, trying desperately to hold back a laugh.

“Oh my god!” Harry snorts, bringing his hands up to his face as he starts to laugh.

“It happens!” Niall giggles. “Rarely, but it happens.”

“What kind of trauma?” Harry asks through a fit of laughter.

“Well, I used to picture him getting it caught in a meat grinder, but now I think it’s probably going to be him getting crushed by free weights. I like to keep things realistic.” Niall hums.

“You’re sick!” Harry cackles.

“He always survives the surgery in my head.” Niall argues with a giggle. “It’s not pretty, but that’s not important. He can live a long life without a penis.”

“That almost seems crueler than killing him.” Harry laughs.

“I never claimed to be a saint.” Niall chuckles, lying down next to Harry.

“You kind of are, though.” Harry hums, rolling onto his side to face Niall. “And it drives me crazy sometimes. You’re such a good person, and – And I’m not.”

“You are.” Niall tells him. “Do you think I’d have left Noah with you if you weren’t a good person? You still think of yourself as the Cheshire Cat, but you aren’t. And even when you were, you were still a good person. Not everything you did was good, but you were.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I literally want to kill a man, just for kissing you?” Harry scoffs.

“Yeah, well – That’s kind of hot.” Niall mumbles. “Horrible, but hot.”

“I can have a hit put on him in less than five minutes.” Harry grins.

“I can think of something much better that we could be doing in five minutes.” Niall smirks, reaching out and running his fingers down Harry’s chest. 

“You’re sure?” Harry asks.

“The only thing I can think of to replace the image in my mind of the two of you together, is to put something else in its place.” Niall murmurs.

“Got something in mind?” Harry hums.

“Always liked the way you looked when you’d ride me.” Niall says casually. “That would be a good start.”

“We should get on that then.” Harry grins, tracing his fingers across the planes of Niall’s newly reforming abs, towards his cock. “Or should I say – I should get on this?”

“You’re such an idiot.” Niall snorts.

“Shut up and kiss me, and then I’ll get you hard again.” Harry chuckles

“Get over me so I can open you up.” Niall growls out, pulling Harry into a sloppy kiss. 

Harry complies quickly, slinging his leg over Niall’s stomach and getting up on his hands and knees to hover over Niall. 

“Do you want me to turn around?” Harry asks breathlessly into Niall’s mouth. “Because I was planning to blow you in order to get you hard again.”

“No. I want to see your face while I finger you.” Niall murmurs, snaking his hand down between their bodies to press the tip of his dry finger against Harry’s hole. “That’ll be more than enough to get me hard.”

“Here then.” Harry whimpers, grabbing the bottle while he drops his head on Niall’s shoulder. Niall makes no move to take the lube, enjoying the tremors that shake Harry’s body with each slow circle he makes over the eager muscle. Harry mouths aimlessly at Niall’s throat, keening from the back of his throat and rutting slowly against Niall’s stomach. “Niall – Please.”

“Please what?” Niall hums, pushing just enough against Harry’s rim to start slipping inside before easing back out.

“Please hurry up so that you can fuck me instead of teasing me.” Harry whines.

“It may be a while since the last time that we did this-” Niall chuckles. “But I seem to remember that you quite like being teased.”

“Not right now.” Harry huffs, biting at Niall’s collarbone. 

“Motherfucker!” Niall yelps, using his free hand to plant a firm slap against Harry’s arse. “Keep that up and you won’t be getting anything.”

“Then I guess you should get to it then.” Harry muses, soothing over the throbbing bite-mark with his tongue.

“Get my fingers lubed up then.” Niall tells him.

“You’re going to make me do all the work tonight, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles.

“No.” Niall smirks. “Just the initial stuff. Gonna save my energy for the really good stuff later.”

“It’s all really good stuff.” Harry says with a scowl.

“You know what I mean.” Niall laughs. “Hurry up and do it if you want me to fuck you already.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry huffs, grabbing the bottle again and flipping open the cap. He lifts up and drizzles the lube onto his palm, reaching behind himself to coat Niall’s fingers before applying whatever is left onto himself. “Alright, you should be good to-”

He cuts himself off with a strangled moan, barely managing to catch himself before he lands on Niall when he falls forward. Niall smirks, twisting the finger he slipped inside and pressing it in deeper.

“Fucker.” Harry breathes out, pushing back into the contact.

“That’s kind of the point, no?” Niall asks, starting to give shallow thrusts with his finger just to get Harry used to the sensation again.

Harry says nothing, just dropping his head down to kiss and nip at Niall’s chest. Moans and whimpers makes their way out of his mouth occasionally, and Niall rewards him for them with deliberate strokes over his prostate. Every time he does, Harry grinds down, dragging his leaking cock against Niall’s stomach for some relief. It’s all so blatantly pornographic, so intimately erotic, that Niall can already feel himself getting ready to explode.

“God I missed that.” Harry groans when Niall presses a second finger in alongside the first. “Missed your fingers. Missed your cock. Missed your tongue and your lips and your teeth. Missed the way you fuck me. Missed the way you make love to me.”

“Shut up before I think you only want me for sex.” Niall mutters, thrusting his fingers in roughly to let Harry know that he’s not playing around.

“Of course I don’t.” Harry murmurs, moving his hand up to turn Niall’s face and press a tender kiss to his lips. “I love you. I don’t care about an orgasm. I just miss how it feels to share myself with you completely. I miss that connection with you. I miss every connection with you.”

“Do you want to chat, or do you want to fuck, Haz?” Niall asks. “I only have the concentration for one, and I know which one I want to do.”

“Which?” Harry asks cheekily.

“Guess.” Niall smirks, quickly pushing in a third finger without warning Harry first.

“Fuck!” Harry groans, drawing out the word until he’s breathlessly panting against Niall’s neck from a lack of air.

“Good guess.” Niall hums, rubbing slow circles over Harry’s prostate and capturing his lips for another heavy kiss. His wrist is starting to cramp from the odd angle, so he decides to switch his focus more towards the actual stretching, rather than pleasuring Harry. He knows how to do both though, and keeps his middle finger rubbing circles while the other two scissor apart. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Now.” Harry breathes out. “Please – Just – Just fuck me already.”

“Condom?” Niall requests, pulling out his fingers and wiping them on the rag.

“Here.” Harry huffs, shoving it into Niall’s other hand.

“Either you’re going to have to put it on me, or you’re going to have to move out of the way.” Niall tells him.

“Whatever.” Harry grumbles, snatching the packet back and ripping it open.

“Don’t be mad at me for wanting protection.” Niall says softly, forcing Harry’s chin up so that their eyes meet. “You had sex with someone else, Haz. I trust you, but I have to be safe until we know for sure. I can’t risk exposing patients to a communicable disease.”

“I know.” Harry sighs. “It just–”

“Feels wrong.” Niall finishes for him. “I know. Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do.”

Harry nods and takes out the condom, moving his hands behind himself and carefully rolling it on, much to Niall’s frustration and relief at the same time. His touch is light and fleeting, just enough to make Niall’s dick stop aching from a lack of attention, but not enough to really relieve any of the desire heating up Niall’s skin from the inside out. It’s a bit better once Harry applies some extra lube to Niall’s cock, but even that isn’t nearly enough.

Harry scoots forward a bit letting Niall plant his feet on the bed, and then lifts himself up, one hand on Niall’s shoulder to keep his balance, and one on Niall’s cock to help guide it in. He does it slowly, payback for Niall’s earlier teasing. Niall doesn’t mind though. He’s actually a bit grateful for it, because his self-control is wavering, and he’s not sure how long he’s going to last if he doesn’t have time to adjust to the intensity of Harry’s tight clenching and breathless moans and blunted fingernails anchoring themselves in pale skin.

“God–” Harry pants out, settling himself flush against Niall’s hips and digging his fingers into Niall’s chest. “That – feels – amazing.”

Niall says nothing in response, can’t after a few times of trying to speak, only to have nothing more than a croak coming out. Instead, he just nods his agreement, carving grooves with his fingers into the love-handles that still sit on Harry’s sides, no matter how hard he tries to get rid of them. Niall loves them though. Loves the way Harry shivers when Niall holds them, loves the softness of them under his lips, loves the way Harry scratches at them early in the morning when his eyes are still half-lidded with sleep. He’s glad that Harry has never managed to work them away, and especially happy that Xander was too ineffective to get rid of them.

“Kiss me.” Harry pleads quietly, leaning down to hover over Niall while giving his hips a minute swivel that Niall grinds up into without intention. Niall wastes no time in complying. He meets Harry halfway, moving his hand up to tangle in Harry’s hair to keep himself focused on the kiss, rather than the way the two of them are working in perfect tandem down below.

Harry licks into Niall’s mouth, pushing hard against his lips and moaning as they both start to pick up speed. And it’s almost enough. It’s almost enough to make Niall forget that the last person in this bed with Harry wasn’t him. Almost enough to push away the fact that the last person inside of Harry wasn’t him. Almost enough to help him eliminate the pain and anger and loneliness of the last year and a half. It’s almost enough, but not quite.

And once that spark starts to burn, it flares into a wildfire. He bites onto Harry’s bottom lip, swallowing the whimper he lets out. His hand moves from Harry’s neck to his chest, pushing hard as he lifts himself up. Harry yelps as he falls onto his back, but Niall is on top of him again in a moment, knees folded under himself so that he can really hammer into Harry.

He presses Harry’s knees against his chest, leaning back on his heels to separate them everywhere except where his hands are gripping Harry’s legs, and where his cock is slamming into Harry’s hole. Harry tries to pull him back down, tries to reclaim the intimacy that Niall’s just shredded to pieces, but Niall isn’t having it.

He fucks into Harry without abandon or mercy, uncaring about the bruises he can already feel forming on his pelvis or the ones that are sure to be smeared red and angry across Harry’s arse tomorrow. His entire body is screaming in protest of the energy and effort he’s putting into his thrusts, his muscles burning and sweat dripping down off his brow to cling to his eyelashes before falling to splatter against Harry’s skin. He can barely breathe as well, his lung stabbing him with sharp spikes of pain every few seconds when he’s forced to inhale.

He adjusts his angle, spreads Harry’s legs wider, looking for any sign that – There – He’s found it. Harry screams, tossing his head back and gripping hard onto Niall’s forearms. He hasn’t been able to do it in years, hasn’t been able to get Harry to cum without that extra push of stimulating his cock, but he’s determined to do it again now. Determined to prove to himself, and to Harry, that he can’t be so easily replaced.

His determination is rewarded after another few minutes of furiously dicking into Harry, denying him every time he tries to draw Niall back in, when Harry cums hard onto his own chest and neck and chin. A bit lands on his lips, stretched open in a silent moan while he clenches down tight on where Niall is still going heavy and hard.

He pulls out without warning, tearing off the condom and giving himself the last few strokes he needs to push himself over the edge.

He grunts out a broken ‘Fuck!’ and catches himself with one hand when his orgasm threatens to overwhelm him. He shoots onto Harry, marking him as his own to displace Xander’s claim.

Harry blinks up at him, pupils blown wide and lips parted, asking, “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Niall mutters, swinging his leg off of the bed and standing up. He grabs a pair of flannels off of the rack, only wetting one for now. He wipes the sweat away from his face first, then focuses on removing the stickiness from his fingers and cock. He tosses the flannel in the second sink, not his problem anymore, and dampens the other one with hot water before wringing it out.

He can’t look at himself in the mirror before he leaves the room, walking back in and handing the cloth off to Harry, who takes it with a blissed out smile. He doesn’t notice Niall grabbing his clothes until he’s finished cleaning himself up, by which time, Niall is sliding back on his pants.

“Wait – What are you doing?” Harry asks when Niall starts to pull on his jeans.

“Leaving.” Niall answers, his tone clipped.

“Why?” Harry asks quietly.

“Why did you leave?” Niall fires back, squeezing his eyes shut before he can start to cry. “Last time, you – You just left without a goddamn word. So what do you care if I go now?”

“I left because I was panicking.” Harry admits, slipping off of the bed and walking up behind Niall. “Everything just got so confused, and I never meant for what happened that night to happen. If I’d stayed, if I’d given myself even a second to talk, then I would have admitted how much I wanted you back. I’ve regretted doing that so many times since that night, Ni. I wish that I had told you then.”

“You could have saved us both a hell of a lot of trouble if you had!” Niall spits out, turning on Harry with fire burning in his chest. “If you’d told me, I would have cancelled my deployment in a heartbeat! I never would have been shot! I wouldn’t have fucking PTSD! I’d still have my whole lung! None of this would have happened if you had just been honest for once in this entire fucking relationship! So why the fuck weren’t you?”

“Because you hadn’t changed.” Harry whispers. “You were still as stubborn as you’d always been, never willing to give an inch. You were still putting other people ahead of me and Noah.”

“Do you know how much that killed me?” Niall asks weakly. “I have never, in my life, felt worse than I did that night. Not even when you sent over the paperwork telling me that you were suing for full custody and then refused to take my calls. I tried to kill myself after that, and then you actually somehow managed to make me feel even more worthless and horrible. If it hadn’t been for Noah sleeping in the next room – I – I don’t know what I would have done.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry murmurs, pressing forehead against Niall’s. “Ni, I can never apologize enough for everything that I’ve done to us, for everything that I’ve put you through. You have to know how sorry I am though. I’d take it all back if I could.”

“But you can’t.” Niall mutters. “Your regret doesn’t do me any good, Harry. It doesn’t give me back all the time I’ve missed with Noah, or Olli, or Gemma. It can’t earn me Zayn’s forgiveness for using him to get the prescription I tried to kill myself with. It won’t grow back my lung. It can’t stop me from flinching and panicking, or even slipping into a full-blown PTSD episode, whenever Liam forgets to turn down the volume on his police procedurals and someone fires a gun. I’m not – I’m not saying that your apology isn’t accepted, but it just doesn’t fix anything.”

“Running away isn’t going to fix anything either, Niall.” Harry says softly. “Stay. Please.”

“I can’t.” Niall breathes out. “I can’t sleep in that bed. Not when you and he – I can’t.”

“We have other beds.” Harry points out.

“And I slept in one of them with Bressie for almost two months.” Niall counters. “And the other one – You don’t want to know. I can’t sleep in any of those beds with you. It’s all tainted.”

“Come on.” Harry says with a gentle smile, wrapping his fingers around Niall’s wrist and pulling him out through the door and down the stairs. 

They reach the living room, and Harry pulls all of the cushions off of both of the sofas, placing them together on the floor in a makeshift mattress. He grabs the throw pillows and tosses them on one side, and then grabs a blanket off of the back of one of the couches and spreads it out over his creation, all while Niall stands in the corner, giggling at his stupid idea. 

“We’ll sleep here.” Harry announces proudly, hooking his fingers into Niall’s belt-loops and dropping his jeans back to the ground.

“Fine.” Niall nods easily, his fondness overpowering his anger, and kneels down to crawl onto it before Harry stops him.

“No, you sleep on the other side.” Harry tells him.

“I always sleep on the left though.” Niall says, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Those are from the couch where you fell asleep on top of Bressie, and he spent the next four hours cuddling you while I tried not to punch his teeth through the back of his skull.” Harry explains. “Other side.”

“Alright.” Niall hums, crossing to the other side and flopping down. It’s lumpy and hard, not at all what he’d pick to sleep on, but once Harry crawls in next to him and pulls Niall close against his chest, it feels like the plushest of feather beds. He tucks his face into the crook of Harry’s neck and mumbles out, “Suppose this will do.”

“I’m good at improvising.” Harry chuckles.

“I – What do you think of me spending the day together with you and Noah tomorrow?” Niall asks.

“I thought that it wasn’t fair to Bressie for me to get to spend time with you like that?” Harry asks.

“This whole thing is about seeing what kind of life I’d have with each of you.” Niall says quietly. “My life with you would be a life with you and Noah both.”

“I’m more than happy with that if it’s what you want, Ni.” Harry smiles. “It’s completely up to you.”

“Then we’ll spend the day together.” Niall decides. The back of his mind reminds him that it isn’t fair, like Harry said, that all of this will hurt Bressie. But Niall doesn’t think Bressie really needs to know. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.


	12. Chapter 12

Three months. It’s been three months, and Niall still doesn’t feel any closer to making a decision than he did before he proposed the idea of dating both Harry and Bressie. It’s getting to the point where he’s ready to rip his own hair out every time he even tries to figure things out. There’s a part of him that wishes that he could just keep this up, that he could be with both of them, but he knows that he can’t. Every week that this drags on is just making it more and more unfair to one of them, because Niall won’t choose them in the end.

It’s not like they’re making it easy though.

Harry has held true to his promise to change. He’s completely open about everything to the point that it can be overwhelming. Like when he told Niall about exactly what had conspired between him and Xander in excruciating detail. That was hard, and it took everything that Niall had not to walk away right then and there, even though it had been his own decision to have Harry tell him.

And Bressie is as perfect as ever. He’s never pushed Niall outside of his comfort zone, never expected more than Niall was ready to give. He knows that Niall isn’t ready to commit completely yet, isn’t ready to give his heart over yet, isn’t ready to have sex with him yet. What he doesn’t know is that Niall has been having sex with Harry again and again since that first night.

Bressie doesn’t know that Niall and Harry have been going at it like horny teenagers at nearly every opportunity. He doesn’t know that Niall has been fucked in the loos of half of the five-star restaurants in London. That he’s gotten head in the back of cinemas all over the city. That he’s got a lifetime ban from the London Zoo now, thanks to Harry getting frisky in an unlocked closet in the reptile house, Gemma taking the boys to get drinks, and a custodian with lousy timing. That every on-call room in the hospital has pillows with Niall’s teeth-marks permanently embedded into them due to impromptu visits on days that definitely aren’t weekends.

Or, at least, Niall thought that he didn’t. When the guilt of hiding it had become too much to shoulder anymore, he found out that he was very wrong.

“What do you mean you know?” Niall asks shrilly, flushing in embarrassment afterwards.

“Exactly what I said, Niall.” Bressie hums, settling back against the couch. “I already knew that you and Harry were having sex again. You haven’t exactly been discreet. Most of the hospital staff knows that you’re sleeping with your ex-husband because you two shag so loudly in the on-call rooms. And I seriously doubted that you two kept your activities confined to the hospital.”

“Why – Why didn’t you say anything?” Niall asks.

“Because it doesn’t matter to me.” Bressie shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter to you?” Niall scoffs.

“Let me rephrase that.” Bressie chuckles. “I’m not threatened by it. You and he had a strong sexual relationship for a long time. It was to be expected that you two would start having sex again before we do. Obviously it was a possibility, and I prepared myself for it at the beginning of this. If I couldn’t handle the thought of you sleeping with him, then I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that I haven’t had sex with you yet?” Niall asks.

“Can I be honest about it?” Bressie asks, waiting for Niall to nod before he continues with, “From everything that I know about your relationship with Harry, sex was the one thing that never really went wrong. Sex is pretty much the only thing that you two shared that wasn’t tainted in some way or another.

“Your sexual history with me, on the other hand, isn’t exactly ideal. We were drunk, you were just freshly single after being hit by your boyfriend, I was married, and I kicked you out in the morning because I was having an emotional breakdown over the shock to my system. It’s natural for you to default into the one unproblematic part of your relationship with Harry, while keeping a distance from the part of our relationship that hasn’t been healthy.”

“God, do you ever stop?” Niall mutters, standing up off of the couch and stripping off his jacket, followed by his shirt. “I’m not your fucking patient anymore, Bress. I’m your boyfriend. Stop analyzing me.”

“It’s not something I do on purpose.” Bressie admits.

“What do you want from me, Bress?” Niall questions, planting one knee to the side of Bressie’s thigh and leaning in close enough that their lips are brushing before he brings up the other leg to straddle over Bressie’s lap. “Do you really love me? Or am I just another head-case for you to fix?”

“I love you.” Bressie says firmly, his hands anchoring themselves on Niall’s hips. “I want to spend my life with you, Niall.”

“Then it should piss you off that I’ve been sleeping with Harry.” Niall growls out, taking Bressie’s bottom lip harshly between his teeth before he licks over it to soothe the sting. “Stop being rational, and start being emotional. Act like I fucking matter.”

“How is doing this now, when you’re only trying to prove a point, acting like you matter?” Bressie asks in a whisper. “Niall – If we do this now, it’s only because you’re upset that I’m not upset. I can’t do that, because this does matter to me. You matter to me. Taking this step right now is wrong if we want this to be real.”

“Fucking Christ!” Niall groans, lifting himself off of Bressie’s lap and standing up off of the couch again. “Whatever! I’m going to call it a night, Bress. See you at work on Monday.”

“Niall-” Bressie sighs, following after him as he heads towards the door with his shirt and jacket in hand. “Don’t do this. Don’t get mad at me for not having sex with you tonight.”

“I told you in the beginning that it was my decision when I’m ready to have sex.” Niall mutters. “That right there was me telling you that I’m ready.”

“I’m not ready.” Bressie says gently, tugging Niall around by the waist. “Not for that. Not tonight. Not when having sex with you now means that I’m just playing into being pitted against Harry. That’s not fair to any of us, Niall.”

“I’m not pitting you against Harry.” Niall scoffs.

“Yes, you are.” Bressie murmurs, cupping Niall’s cheek. “You’re expecting me to get all possessive over you just because you’ve been sleeping with him.”

“Because I want to know that I’m more than just something for you to make better!” Niall hisses. “I can’t even tell where the line between being your patient ends and being your boyfriend begins! Most guys would be mad as hell if their boyfriend was sleeping with someone else!”

“So you want me to do what, Niall?” Bressie asks coldly. “You want me to shag you just to compete with him? You want me to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you can’t even remember his name?”

“Yes.” Niall breathes out.

Bressie’s lips crash into Niall’s before the word is even all the way out of his mouth. He’s pressed tight against the wall, completely surrounded everywhere by Bressie. The height difference between them makes things awkward, but Bressie lifts him up easily by the arse. He grinds hard against Niall’s crotch, making the younger man whimper against his lips.

Then Niall is falling, crashing onto his bum on the hardwood with a pained yelp. Bressie is halfway across the room by the time Niall looks up, fingers buried in his hair and looking more stressed than Niall has ever seen him.

“Go.” he says roughly, his eyes locked on the wall rather than looking at Niall. “You were right to call it a night, Niall.”

“Bress-” Niall starts.

“You can’t just use me, Niall!” Bressie says harshly, turning on Niall with tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. “I’m in love with you! I can handle waiting for you to make a decision, but I can’t handle you forcing me to compete with him. Because I’m not going to win that fight. We both know that. No matter how much he wrecks you, no matter how much I fight for you, I’m not going to walk away from this with you unless you can learn to make a healthy decision. This isn’t a healthy decision.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Niall asks weakly.

“No.” Bressie whispers. “But I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again until you make a choice, Niall.”

“I need more time.” Niall mumbles.

“Why?” Bressie asks, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’ve seen what I have to offer you by now, Niall. You know that we could be great together. You know that I could make you happy. What more is it going to take for you to pick yourself for once?”

“It’s not that easy.” Niall says feebly, climbing to his feet.

“It is.” Bressie says coldly. “It is that easy, Niall. It’s easier than you would believe to say ‘I want to be happy’ and choosing what would make that happen.”

“Says the man who was married to a woman for four years because he couldn’t handle the fact that he was gay.” Niall scoffs.

“And since then, I’ve done what would make me happy.” Bressie counters. “I learned from my mistakes. I learned to stop making toxic choices. I learned how to stand up for myself, and not back down just to please other people. That’s why I’m saying that I’m not going to have sex with you. Because I learned how to do right by myself. Having sex with you tonight isn’t doing right by anyone at all, least of all me. Not when it’s just another way for you to measure us against each other.

“Only one thing really matters, Niall. He broke you, and I would never do that. That’s all you need to know to make a choice. So don’t keep dragging this out. Choose me. Choose to be with someone who will never break you. Take whatever time you need to make your choice, but make it, before it breaks all of us.”

He disappears back into his bedroom after that, his words still ringing in Niall’s ears as he gathers his things and leaves the flat.

 

“What’s the matter?” Harry asks softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Niall’s neck when he stiffens.

“Nothing.” Niall mutters.

“Niall, you called me over here at half nine at night, on one of Bressie’s days, and didn’t say a word the entire time we were having sex. It’s not nothing.” Harry sighs. “I thought we were being honest with each other now.”

“You want honest?” Niall scoffs, sitting up and breaking the protective bubble that Harry’s arms created around him. “How’s this for honest? I don’t know what I’m still doing with you.”

“Ni-” Harry starts, but he’s decided to open the floodgate, and Niall isn’t going to be stopped yet.

“I have an amazing guy!” Niall snaps, climbing out of his bed. “More than amazing, actually! He’s perfect! He’s perfect, and he loves me, and he kicked me out of his flat tonight because I tried to have sex with him!”

“You what?” Harry growls, sitting up with his lip tugged back in a snarl.

“Fuck you.” Niall scoffs. “You actually slept with someone else. You’re past the point of getting to judge me. In fact, you never get to judge me.”

“What the fuck does me having sex with one guy, one time, when we weren’t together, have to do with anything?” Harry asks incredulously. “I’ve explained what happened. I’ve apologized for it. Hell, I even bought a new bed, including mattress and linens, and re-equipped a perfectly fine home-gym just so that there are no traces of him left in the house! Stop holding one mistake over my head!”

“One mistake?” Niall asks with a mirthless laugh. “One of a thousand maybe. Everything about us is a mistake. Everything about me still even giving you a chance is a mistake.”

“Then why are you doing it?” Harry questions. “Why, when you’re upset and in pain, am I the first person you called? Why not Zayn? Why not call Bressie and try to fix whatever happened?”

“Because you can’t hurt me any worse than you already have!” Niall spits out venomously. “You did it. You broke me completely. There is nothing that you can ever do to hurt me more than you did when you left me. There’s nothing to lose by calling you when I’m hurt.”

“Bullshit.” Harry growls, standing up off of the bed. “You called me because you know that I’m the right choice, Niall.”

“In what world do you honestly believe that?” Niall mutters. “How are you the right choice? You’re the farthest thing in the world from the right choice. You use me, and manipulate me, and control me, and that’s never going to change.”

“The only person using anyone right now is you, Niall.” Harry says darkly. “You’re using me to fill in the gap for your other boyfriend, because he wouldn’t give you what you wanted.”

“He’s willing to give me everything I want!” Niall hisses. “And he could, too. If I just let him, he could give me a good life. He wouldn’t break me like you did. He loves me.”

“But do you love him?” Harry questions.

“That’s none of your business.” Niall mutters.

“The hell it isn’t.” Harry scoffs angrily.

“Get out of my home.” Niall grits out.

“Not until you answer my question.” Harry counters, stepping in closer until their bare chests are pressed against each other. “Do you love him?”

“I said it’s none of your business.” Niall snarls.

“Do you love him?” Harry asks again, leaning in so that the words ghost over Niall’s lips.

“I could.” Niall admits weakly. “If I let you go, I could love him.”

“And do you love me?” Harry questions.

“I don’t want to.” Niall breathes out. “I want to make the healthy choice. I want someone who won’t break me again.”

“I won’t break you again.” Harry murmurs, brushing his lips over Niall’s. “Not ever again. I love you, Niall.”

“I have to pick him, Harry.” Niall whispers. “He’s perfect. He’s the safe choice.”

“Then make it.” Harry tells him, turning back towards the bed and grabbing his pants off of the lamp where Niall threw them two hours ago. “Make the safe choice. See if that makes you happy, or if you’re just settling. I know that I’m not the safe choice, that you have no reason to believe me when I say that I’ll be better for you, but it’s the truth, Niall.

“He could make you content, but only I could make you happy. You’d just have to be willing to take the risk in choosing me. It’s not the easy choice, it’s not the safe choice, but it’s the right choice. So you can pick Bressie, but in a year, five years, ten years – Someday down the line – You’re going to realize that he may be perfect, but he isn’t right for you. I’ll wait as long as I have to.”

His shirt and joggers are on by the time he finishes speaking, and he’s got his keys in his hand.

“I-” Niall starts, but he’s quickly cut off again.

“I never came into this expecting to be the one you chose, Niall.” Harry admits. “I hoped you would, I prayed for it every night, but I’m not stupid. I knew that you’d pick him. I knew that I’ve hurt you too many times to really come away from everything with your trust and forgiveness.”

“So, what – You were just taking the sex while you could get it?” Niall asks bitterly.

“I was taking everything you’d give me.” Harry whispers. “I was storing up all the little pieces of love you were still willing to give me, because I’m going to need them to get through you choosing him. I’m going to need something to hold onto just to keep breathing when you walk away again.”

“You walked away first, Harry.” Niall says quietly.

“No, Niall.” Harry mutters. “You walked away first when you got on that plane. And you know what? I tried to make the healthy choice too. I tried to be with a nice guy who would be able to give me what I need in a relationship. But here I am, standing in your bedroom while you tell me that you’re picking another man over me. I couldn’t even give Xander a shot to make me happy, and I don’t regret it, because it may not have been the healthy choice, but it was the right choice for me. You were the right choice for me. You’re still my choice, even if I’m not yours.”

“I’m sorry.” Niall breathes out. “I have to do this. I have to pick him. I have to try and be healthy.”

“Goodbye, Niall.” Harry whispers, pressing his lips in a feather-light touch to Niall’s cheek before walking away and closing the door behind him. It’s not like the last time, like what happened just before Haiti, but Niall still cries, curling up on his bed until he falls asleep with the last goodbye he ever wanted to hear still ringing in his ears, and wondering if this feeling in his chest is pain, or relief.

 

Zayn and Liam are a blessing. Really, they’re absolute angels. Especially Liam. Niall doesn’t have his head on tight enough today to be a good father with Noah, but when he’d rung them up, they’d immediately agreed to tag along to help make things easier by distracting Noah.

So, now, Liam is doing the best he can with his burn scars limiting his mobility and his ribs still healing, to keep Noah occupied on the playground while Niall and Zayn sit and watch. May is in full swing, and there’s been a rare streak of sunny days, so Noah is having a great time running around without worrying over mud or dirt. He hasn’t even noticed Niall’s withdrawn behavior.

“So-” Zayn draws out slowly. “I’m good to wait on talking if you need to do that, but I’m here if you want to tell me what happened.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how ready are you to tie me to a chair and torture me for information?” Niall asks.

“About a four right now.” Zayn grins.

“I’ll wait then.” Niall mumbles. “Once you have the rope and start sharpening bamboo to shove under my fingernails, then I’ll talk.”

“There’s a hardware store two blocks from here.” Zayn hums. “And it’s across the street from a Chinese restaurant. I could be back in twenty minutes with rope and chopsticks.”

“I need you to be supportive.” Niall says quietly. “For ten minutes, I need you to not be the judgmental arse you generally are, and to support me.”

“A full ten minutes?” Zayn asks with a playful chuckle that dies when Niall looks at him with tears already forming in the corners of his eyes. “Shit. Okay. Whatever you need, Nialler.”

“I ended things with Harry last night.” Niall breathes out, the confession catching in his throat like a razorblade. His fingernails dig into his palms, the biting pain dragging him back into the moment rather than letting him continue to drown in the nostalgic sea of memories that he’s spent the last twelve hours in, reliving every moment that he spent with Harry from their first kiss to their last.

“And he let you have Noah today?” Zayn asks, the question bursting out from his mouth too tactlessly to mask the surprise. Niall can’t be offended by it though. He was just as surprised this morning when Gemma showed up to drop Noah off. He’d been expecting at least a few weeks without being allowed to have his visits, and he’d been worried when the knock sounded on the door that he was about to be served papers telling him that Harry was suing for full custody again.

“I guess.” Niall nods.

“Wait – What were you even doing with Harry last night?” Zayn asks. “Last night was a Bressie night.”

“Yeah, I fucked that up too.” Niall sighs. “I finally told him that I’ve been having sex with Harry, and-”

“You’ve what?” Zayn yelps loudly, grunting when Niall slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up!” Niall hisses, waving over at Noah with a big smile when he and Liam stop in their tracks to look at them. “I’m going to talk, and I need you to wait until I’m finished before you say anything else. Can you do that, or do I need to call Luke to talk about this instead?”

Zayn nods, and Niall removes his hand from his friend’s mouth, eyes narrowing suspiciously while he waits for Zayn to say something.

When Zayn waves his hand, Niall continues with, “I’ve been sleeping with Harry. For a while. Like – Since the first night we started seeing each other again. And pretty much all the time since then. Bressie says that it’s all over the hospital, since we’ve been shagging in the on-call rooms. I’m actually pretty surprised that you didn’t know. Then again, given the fact that you haven’t kicked my arse yet, I guess I shouldn’t be.

“And I felt guilty about the fact that I was sleeping with Harry, but that I’ve been holding back with Bressie, so I told him. He said he already knew, and that it didn’t bother him. So, I – I got a bit crazy that it didn’t bother him, and I tried to seduce him, and it all went bad from there. We started fighting because he thinks that I keep pitting him against Harry, and that I’ve had enough time to make a decision. He – He told me that we shouldn’t see each other again until I made a decision, and then I left.

“I called Harry and asked him to come over because I was upset, and then we fucked for almost two hours straight. And then I got in a fight with him, because Bressie was right. I have had time to make a decision, and the only sane choice is Bressie. So I broke things off with Harry, and he didn’t scream, or cry, or really react at all. He just told me that he’ll wait for me to realize that Bressie and I don’t belong together, and he left.”

“Have you told Bressie?” Zayn asks once Niall slumps back against the bench and draws in a deep breath.

“Not yet.” Niall admits. “I’ve barely been able to function, because my heart feels like it’s fucking disintegrating. It should be freeing, right? Making the healthy choice should make me feel better? So why don’t I feel better?”

“It’s going to hurt for a while, Nialler.” Zayn murmurs, wrapping an arm around Niall’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “But you did the smart thing. It’ll get better. Liam and I are here for you, and Bressie will be too.”

“How am I going to tell him?” Niall asks in a whisper.

“I think that’s pretty straightforward.” Zayn says with a smile. “He’ll be over the moon no matter how you do it.”

“Not Bressie.” Niall mutters, looking over at where Liam is standing at the bottom of the slide, waiting for Noah to come down. “We’ve been spending every Sunday as a family for the last three months. I go out with Harry on Saturdays, sleep over, and spend all of Sunday with them. How do I tell him that that’s not going to happen anymore? That it’s going to go back to just eight hours a week with the two of us alone? How do I tell him that his family isn’t going to be a family anymore? How do I put him through all of that again?”

“You let him know that you’re not going to disappear again.” Zayn says gently. “You let him know that you love him, no matter what happens between you and Harry. Someday he’ll understand why this happened. It’s probably not going to be today, or any time soon, but it will happen eventually. It’s going to be hard at first, but you’ll get through it. You both will.”

“I wish I believed in God.” Niall mutters. “I wish that I believed there was someone listening when I pray that this all turns out okay.”

“I’m here.” Zayn tells him. “I’m not quite a god, but I think I’m a pretty good substitute.”

“You are such a neurosurgeon.” Niall scoffs. “Arrogant as all fuck. I don’t know how you ever had trouble choosing your specialty.”

“I wanted to do it all.” Zayn hums. “And I could have. I’m that good. Just one step removed from God, really. That’s how I know that this is all going to turn out alright.”

“I hope you’re right.” Niall whispers. “I really do.”

 

“Did you have fun with Uncle Liam and Uncle Zayn today?” Niall asks, handing Noah his plate of pizza.

“Yeah.” Noah beams. “I missed them.”

“They missed you too.” Niall smiles.

“Papa?” Noah asks while Niall pours him a glass of milk. “Did you pick Mr. Bressie?”

“What?” Niall gasps, knocking over the glass and grabbing a towel to sop up the spilled contents, needing something to look at other than Noah. “What did you just say?”

“Did you pick Mr. Bressie?” Noah repeats quietly, each word feeling like a punch to Niall’s gut. “Is he going to be your new husband?”

“How do you know about that?” Niall asks weakly.

“I heard Olli telling you to choose Daddy.” Noah admits. “I asked him what he was talking about, and he told me that you’ve been trying to pick between marrying Daddy again, and marrying Mr. Bressie.”

“How long have you known about this?” Niall asks.

“I’ve been asking for a long time, but he only told me last night.” Noah explains. “I told him that I’d tell Auntie Gemma about the magazine he has under his mattress if he didn’t tell me.”

Five years old, and he’s blackmailing someone. God, he really is Harry’s son.

“I did pick Mr. Bressie.” Niall tells him. “But he’s not going to be my husband. Not right now.”

“Why didn’t you pick Daddy?” Noah asks, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Why didn’t you come home and be with us?”

“I can’t explain it to you right now, Noah.” Niall sighs. “When you’re older, you’ll understand.”

“I want to go home.” Noah whispers.

“Noah-” Niall starts.

“I want to go home!” Noah yells suddenly, pushing his plate off of the table so that it smashes on the floor. “I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home!”

“Noah, calm down.” Niall pleads.

“I want to go home!” Noah screams, his face turning red while he slams his hands on the table over and over again.

“Noah, you need to stop this right now.” Niall says firmly. “I’m still your father, and-”

“No you aren’t!” Noah spits out. “Daddy is my father! You aren’t! You’re not my father!”

The words are like a switch flicking off in Niall’s brain, shutting down all of his emotions, because he knows, _he knows_ , that if he lets the full force of them hit him right now, it will kill him. He stands up wordlessly, walking over to the door and slipping his feet into his shoes. He shrugs on his jacket, grabs his keys, and then asks, “Are you going to come, or not?”

“Yes.” Noah huffs, stomping over and shoving his feet into his shoes. Niall tries to help him with his coat, but Noah flinches away and spits out, “I can do it myself. I don’t need you. Don’t touch me.”

“Fine.” Niall says, opening up the door and stepping through, waiting for Noah before he closes it and locks up. They walk out of his building without talking, but that’s just the beginning. The entire drive to Harry’s is spent in a silence so heavy that Niall feels his body starting to crumble under the weight of it. But he doesn’t speak, because if he speaks, then he knows he’ll break. He’ll shatter and shred and crumble and dissolve, because his son doesn’t want him or need him anymore, and that’s just too much to handle.

So he stays quiet, hoping that he can just make it to Harry’s and back home before he gives into the gaping wound in his chest that feels like it’s threatening to split him open from head to toe. By the time he pulls through the gate, he feels cracks already starting to race across his skin, tearing his mask, the one with the defiantly expressionless face, into pieces.

When Harry opens the door, he looks confused, but before he can even speak, Noah pushes past him into the house. “Noah, come back here and say good bye to Papa.” Harry calls after him.

“No!” Noah yells. “I hate him!”

“Noah Robert Styles, you get back here and apologize right now!” Harry demands, but Noah doesn’t listen. He’s already stomping up the stairs, and Niall is racing away from the door. He gets to his car, but a hand presses against the door and stops him from opening it up as Harry asks, “What happened?”

“He knows.” Niall breathes out shakily. “He knows about you and me and Bressie. Olli told him. He asked me if I chose Bressie, and I told him the truth. Then he screamed at me until I brought him home.”

“It’s going to take time for him to adjust, Ni.” Harry says softly, resting a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “He’s scared, and confused, but he’ll come around. He didn’t mean it.”

“He said I’m not his father.” Niall sobs, leaning against the car for support because his legs feel like they’re about to give out.

“He didn’t mean that either.” Harry murmurs. “Come inside.”

“I can’t.” Niall chokes out, hunching over because he feels like he’s about to empty his stomach all over the ground. “I can’t see him right now.”

“You don’t have to.” Harry tells him, leaning down and wrapping his arm around Niall’s chest to start leading him inside. “But you’re in no condition to drive. I’ll call Bressie, and he can come get you.”

“Zayn.” Niall says quickly, shaking his head. “Call Zayn.”

“Alright.” Harry nods, walking Niall in through the door.

He settles Niall down on the couch, and leaves him alone to go make the call. It takes him a few minutes to come back, but he eventually does return with a steaming mug of tea that he puts in Niall’s hands with a gentle murmur of, “Zayn’s on his way. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” Niall asks after taking a sip of his tea.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry asks back.

“Because I chose Bressie.” Niall says quietly. “I don’t know how you’re even looking at me right now. I don’t know why you didn’t just let me leave. I don’t know why you let me have Noah today. I don’t know how you don’t hate me.”

“Because I love you, and you choosing Bressie doesn’t make a difference when it comes to that.” Harry says bluntly. “You’re the love of my life, my soulmate, and even though you broke my heart, that’s not changing. I couldn’t hate you. Not ever.”

“Please stop.” Niall begs, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t do this to me right now. Not now. Not today.”

“I was just answering your question.” Harry says quietly. “But I won’t say any more if you don’t want me to.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out, letting his eyes slip closed and focusing on the painful burn of the tea cup between his palms.

“Should I tell Zayn to hide the knives?” Harry asks quietly.

“No.” Niall says after giving it a moment of thought. “I’m not falling back down that hole. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“You hesitated.” Harry sighs.

“I had to think about it.” Niall admits. “Not whether or not I wanted to kill myself right now, but if I thought I might want to when I let this all actually hit me. Because, right now, I’m just letting myself be numb, but that isn’t going to last forever. Later, I’m not going to be able to hold it back anymore, and I had to honestly think about whether or not I’m probably going to want to kill myself. But if I kill myself, then I can never redeem myself to him. So my answer is, no, I’m not going to kill myself. Not even if I end up wanting to die.”

“Alright then.” Harry nods.

“Alright then.” Niall echoes blankly, digging in his heels mentally as the conversation threatens to pull him out of his numbed state. He leans over and puts his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Can you just – Can you talk about something else? Not us, and not Noah, and not my mental health. Just talk about anything else. Please?”

“I went to the market earlier.” Harry hums, wrapping his arm around Niall’s shoulder. “Found some beautiful spinach, and some chantarelles that are absolutely gorgeous.”

He keeps droning on about the things he bought at the market, and about the people he talked to, and about the meals he’s planning to make, and Niall lets his eyes slip closed. He lets himself fall into the familiarly comforting cadence of Harry’s voice, relaxing until the wound in his chest isn’t throbbing so persistently anymore.

Zayn shows up after ten minutes or so, and Harry helps Niall out to the car. He doesn’t need to do it, and it’s something that he has to know isn’t necessary, but he does it anyways. So Niall hugs him for it, whispering out, “Thank you, Haz.” in his ear before he climbs into the car and lets Zayn take him away to a place where he can finally break down.

 

“Are you going to do anything today?” Zayn asks. “Or are you just going to mope around like a little bitch?”

“Arse.” Niall huffs, clutching his pillow tighter to his chest. “If you don’t want me to ‘mope around like a little bitch’, then take me back to Harry’s so I can get my car, and I’ll go home.”

“Ni, we want you around.” Liam says gently, rubbing his hand on Niall’s back. “We’re just worried that you might be falling back into your depression.”

“My son told me he hates me.” Niall sighs. “And that I’m not his father. I get to be depressed for a little while. I’m not spiraling. I just don’t want to do anything right this moment. Can you please just be okay with that?”

“Do you want us to call Bressie?” Zayn asks.

“I don’t need a therapist for this!” Niall groans.

“Not as a therapist, Niall. As your boyfriend.” Zayn spits out. “You know, the guy you chose to be with? The one that you picked because he was the right choice?”

“Why are you yelling at me?” Niall asks angrily, defiant in the face of Zayn’s sudden fury.

“Because I don’t know what you’re doing anymore, Niall!” Zayn snaps. “You say you picked Bressie, but you haven’t even talked to him about it after two days. And then, I come to get you yesterday because you’re supposedly having some sort of breakdown, which is understandable after what happened, but I find you cuddled up on the couch with Harry, listening to him talk about making a vegetable lasagna. If you chose Bressie, then why aren’t you even considering him right now?”

“Because if I see him right now, then I have to tell him that my son hates me because I chose to be with him!” Niall yells, jumping off of the couch and getting in Zayn’s face. “I can’t let that be the way that I tell him that I picked him! I can’t let that be how I start our life together! I already spent the last three months wasting my time trying to cling to Harry, and I don’t want our new life to start out with Bressie feeling guilty that my son doesn’t want me in his life anymore because I didn’t pick Harry. Do you have a fucking problem with that?”

“Both of you need to calm down. Now.” Liam says firmly stepping in and pushing them apart. “Zayn, Niall’s relationship is his own. You need to respect how he handles it. Niall, Zayn is concerned about you. We both are. You know we love you, but you also know that you haven’t been known for making the best decisions. We need you to talk to us about this kind of thing, because otherwise we’re going to worry. You know how poorly Zayn handles worrying.”

“If he’d just asked, instead of yelling at me, then I would have told him.” Niall mutters.

“You could have just volunteered the information.” Zayn counters.

“I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, if you hadn’t noticed.” Niall sighs. “Can we just – Can we not do this? Because I’ve fought with Bressie, Harry, and Noah over the last two days, and I don’t want to fight with you too, Zee. I can go back home if that’s what it takes, but I don’t want to fight with you.”

“You’re staying here.” Zayn huffs. “Get back on the couch, and I’ll make us all some tea. Then you can mope all day, and I won’t get on you again. I promise. I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you too.” Niall mumbles. “Even if you were being an arse.”

“And you were being a little bitch, so I guess we’re even.” Zayn smirks, walking into the kitchen.

“You two are impossible.” Liam sighs, collapsing back onto the couch.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Niall chuckles, sitting down next to Liam and snuggling into his side. “How are you feeling? You did a lot with Noah yesterday. Any problems?”

“I was sore when I woke up, but I’m fine now.” Liam smiles.

“Have you talked to him yet?” Niall asks quietly. “Have you decided?”

“I’m taking the fire safety inspector position. I haven’t told him yet though.” Liam admits. “I’m waiting for the right time. I – I wanted to talk to him about kids too. He always said we couldn’t have them because he didn’t want to put a child through having a parent do what I did for a living. I’m hoping we can reconsider that now.”

“I hope you two work that out.” Niall beams. “I could use another nephew, or maybe a niece for once.”

“I want a girl.” Liam whispers with a wide grin. “A little girl that I can dress up in pink bows and puffy little dresses and paint her little nails to match her outfits.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot.” Niall hums.

“All the time lately.” Liam confesses. “If I’m not focusing on my physio, I’m thinking about babies. It’s actually becoming a problem.”

“Haz was the same way.” Niall laughs. “He spent the last week of our honeymoon just talking about babies whenever we weren’t – well, you know – shagging like banshees. He got all misty over the idea of buying dummies and onesies and a pram. He literally went on for days about the merits of cloth nappies versus disposables.”

“Disposables, definitely.” Liam says firmly. “I don’t care about the environment enough to deal with cloth nappies.”

“Smart man.” Niall grins.

“What did I miss?” Zayn asks, walking in with three cups of tea and passing them around.

“Li can tell you about it.” Niall says with a soft smile, setting down his tea. “I think I’m going to head home. Thanks for coming to get me last night, but I need to get my car from Harry’s and clear my head before tomorrow.”

“Is that when you’re going to tell Bressie?” Zayn asks.

“Yeah.” Niall nods. “Sorry about wasting that cuppa.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Zayn smiles. “I’ll drink it. Do you want a ride?”

“I’m just going to call for a taxi.” Niall tells him. “You two have some things to talk about. Jobs and babies and such.”

“Niall!” Liam hisses.

“Trust me on this, Li.” Niall says gently, pecking a kiss to his cheek. “There won’t ever be a ‘right time’. There’s only here and now. Waiting too long is stupid.”

“I know.” Liam mumbles. “So don’t chicken out tomorrow.”

“Not going to happen.” Niall hums, standing up and pressing a kiss to Zayn’s forehead before making his way out of the flat, grabbing his shoes and his jacket on the way. The taxi only takes a few minutes to pick him up once he gets off of the call, and thankfully the driver isn’t one of the ones who likes to chat. Niall isn’t sure he could keep up a conversation right now.

It isn’t until he pays the driver and is standing in front of the gate that he realizes that he should have told Harry that he was coming to get his car. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to thank Harry again for yesterday, or just grab his car and go. He doesn’t know how to handle this, because he doesn’t know where they are with each other, and he doesn’t know if he can just drop by, even if it’s only to pick up his car.

He decides to just punch in the code and hurry to his car. He’ll text Harry later to let him know that he picked it up. Or, at least, that’s the plan. He’s not completely surprised when things don’t go to plan. They rarely do for him anymore.

The creak of the front door is familiar by now, a loud noise that pulls a sigh out of Niall before he turns around to find Harry standing there with a soft smile, and Noah hiding behind him and clinging tight to his shirt. He’s peeking out from behind Harry’s hip, eyes wide and rimmed with tears, bottom lip quivering.

“You weren’t going to at least say hi?” Harry questions, wiping his hands on a flannel. He’s got his sleeves rolled up, and flour on his cheek. Niall has to force his eyes to the ground to keep himself from staring. Harry’s marvelous when he bakes.

“I – I wasn’t sure if I should.” Niall admits. “After yesterday–”

He’s cut off by Noah choking out a sob, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder when he crouches down. Harry whispers something that Niall can’t hear, and then nods when Noah pulls back to look at him. Before Niall knows it, Noah is running across the space between them and launching himself at his father. Niall stumbles back into the side of the car when Noah crashes into his chest, but he wraps his arms around his son immediately, clinging to him for dear life.

“I’m sorry, Papa!” Noah wails, burying his face in Niall’s neck and hugging him tight. “I didn’t mean it! I love you!”

“I love you too, Noh-Noh.” Niall murmurs, petting his hand through Noah’s untidy curls and holding him as best as he can. “I love you so much, bubba. Nothing will ever change that. Do you understand me? Nothing in this world will ever make me stop loving you. I’m not going away again. I promise.”

“Really?” Noah asks.

“Really.” Niall nods, pressing a kiss to his son’s temple. “Things are going to be different, but I’m not going to abandon you ever again. Me being with Mr. Bressie isn’t going to change that. I promise.”

“Good.” Noah says quietly, squeezing his arms around Niall’s neck. “We’ll still see each other on Saturdays, right?”

“Right.” Niall confirms.

“Noah, why don’t you go inside now?” Harry says quietly. “And don’t eat any of the biscuit dough. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“No you won’t.” Niall whispers in his ear before setting him down. Noah gives him a lopsided smile, the mirror image of his father’s, and then runs off back into the house. “Did I just lie to him? Was yesterday the last Saturday I’m going to get with him?”

“Of course not.” Harry smiles softly. “I’m not going to punish you for choosing Bressie. What would that help?”

“Might help soothe your ego.” Niall shrugs. “Some sort of revenge.”

“I don’t want revenge.” Harry tells him. “You’ll still have your visits. And if you give me some time, I’ll eventually adjust to the idea of letting him be around Bressie. Not yet though.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about it happening any time soon.” Niall admits. “I plan on taking things slow with Bressie. We have a lot to figure out before I integrate him into my life like that.”

“Oh really?” Harry smirks. “Because I have the latest gossip from a pretty reliable source that says he’s going to be your new husband.”

“Oh my god.” Niall snorts. “I think that Olli was just trying to simplify it for him.”

“I was just going to say–” Harry hums, grabbing Niall delicately by the left hand and lifting it up to thumb over the tattoo on his finger. “You might want to get the tattoo removed before you accept a ring from him. It would be a bit rude to have my wedding ring under his.”

“You’re not as charming as you think you are.” Niall chuckles.

“Yes I am.” Harry grins.

“Yes you are.” Niall agrees reluctantly. “What happened to make him not hate me anymore?”

“I told him the truth.” Harry shrugs. “I told him that we had problems, and that you decided that you want to be with Bressie because you think it’ll make you happy. I also told him that that doesn’t mean that you don’t love him, or that you aren’t going to keep being his father. I told him that he’s always going to be the most important thing in the world to you.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out.

“Of course.” Harry nods. “Have a good night, Ni.”

“You too, Haz.” Niall says quietly, only realizing that their hands were still linked together when the warmth of Harry’s fingers falls away from between his and he has to watch as Harry heads back into the house. He can’t help the way his breath hitches and his stomach drops when the door closes without Harry ever looking back. But his heart is still soaring from Noah forgiving him, so he doesn’t cry on the way back to his flat.

If he spends the night rubbing his thumb over the ring tattooed on his finger, nobody else needs to know that.

 

“Hey.” Niall breathes out.

“What are you doing here, Niall?” Bressie asks.

“We need to talk.” Niall tells him. “I – I need to talk to you.”

“Come in.” Bressie says quietly, stepping to the side to let Niall past him. “Does this mean that you’ve made a decision?”

“I have.” Niall nods.

“You picked him, didn’t you?” Bressie asks shakily.

“Not at first.” Niall admits. “I – I picked you first. But I can’t do it. I can’t pick you.”

“Why?” Bressie questions, sitting down on the couch and putting his head between his hands. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.” Niall says gently, crouching down in front of him. “Bressie, I wanted to pick you. I wanted to so badly. I wanted to be the guy that you believe that I could be. I want to be the one that makes the healthy, sane decision.”

“So why him?” Bressie asks.

“Because love isn’t healthy or sane.” Niall tells him. “I love you, I really do, but I’m not in love with you. I’m in love with Harry. He’s a part of me, and I’m a part of him, and nothing can change that. He’ll always be under my skin, just like this ring.”

“He’ll hurt you again.” Bressie mutters. “He’ll break you all over again, and I won’t be there to pick up the pieces.”

“You’re right. He might hurt me again. In fact, there’s a very high chance that he will.” Niall says quietly. “But I’m ready to take that risk. What Haz and I have – It isn’t safe, and it isn’t healthy, and it isn’t sane, but it’s real. He’s my soulmate, no matter how much he’s hurt me. He’s the love of my life. You deserve to find the love of your life, not just someone who’d be settling for something that isn’t everything they want.”

“And what if the love of my life doesn’t want to be with me?” Bressie questions. “What if the love of my life doesn’t love me back? What if he has a different soulmate?”

“Bress, I’m not the love of your life.” Niall says gently. “You just want to believe I am, because then you don’t have to look anymore. Because you’re forty-four, and you’ve only had one proper boyfriend. Because you want a family and a partner. Because, even though I’m so fucked up, I was the safe choice for you.”

“You were never the safe choice.” Bressie breathes out. “But – God – I wanted it to be you.”

“I wanted it to be you too.” Niall confesses.

“We could have been happy.” Bressie murmurs. “I could have made you happy.”

“You could have.” Niall nods. “You’re an amazing man, Bress. Pretty damn perfect, actually. I hope you find someone who can appreciate that properly, the way I couldn’t. Some guy who can take all the love you have to give, and give it back in return. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be that guy. But staying with you, that would be taking that chance away from you. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us, because I’d still be in love with Harry.”

“Does it change anything if I tell you that it doesn’t matter to me?” Bressie asks. “That I can handle you still being in love with Harry?”

“No.” Niall whispers. “And you shouldn’t be willing to take that. You aren’t the kind of guy who should be settled for. You’re way too good for that. You deserve better. You’ve got to do right by yourself.”

“I know.” Bressie sighs. “I know I do. Does this mean we have to stop being friends?”

“For a little while, at least.” Niall mumbles. “You need time to move on, and I don’t think Harry would be too comfortable with it yet. But I hope you can forgive me someday, and we can be friends again. I don’t want you to not be a part of my life anymore, unless that’s what you need, Bress.”

“For a little while, at least.” Bressie echoes. “But not forever.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready.” Niall tells him. “The door is always open.”

“Thank you, Niall.” Bressie says quietly. “Thank you for not choosing me, then letting me find out down the line, once I was happy, that it was a mistake. I’m not really thankful for it right now, but I know I will be eventually. I, um – I really need you to leave now. Bye, Niall.”

“Goodbye, Bress.” Niall says, planting a small peck on Bressie’s cheek as he stands up. It’s not easy to ignore the choked sob that Bressie lets out while Niall leaves the flat, but he knows that he can’t turn back. He knows that it won’t be better for Bressie if he stays. This is the one kind thing that Niall can do for him now, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

 

It’s raining, and somehow that feels appropriate. It feels cleansing. Lightning flashes in the sky, and Niall takes a moment to feel the storm with every cell of his body. He lets himself absorb the energy from the air, soaking it in like a sponge, until that heavy creak makes him tear his eyes away from the sky.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks loudly, staying safely dry under the awning.

“I choose you!” Niall calls to him, keeping himself firmly planted to the ground where he can feel the storm.

“What?” Harry asks, the fond amusement leaving his eyes to be replaced by shock.

“I choose you!” Niall laughs, buzzing with the words. “It’s not Bressie! It’s you! It’s always been you!”

“Niall-” Harry says quietly, stepping out into the rain without flinching as the cold droplets pour down and soak him almost instantly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m picking you.” Niall tells him. “I don’t want safe. I want you. Because you’re my epic love story, and I’m not going to let that go. I’m not going to let you go. You’re my soulmate, Haz. You’re a part of me. A part that I don’t want to lose.

“And I know that we have problems. I know that I let you fall by the wayside, but I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let you or Noah ever fall to second place again. I can’t fix the past, I can’t go back to yesterday, but I can promise you, right here and now, that you are the love of my life, and I will fight for you, and for us, and for our family, every day for the rest of it.”

Harry surges forward, hands gripping Niall by the neck as he crushes their lips together in a kiss that Niall meets all too eagerly. For the first time in almost two years, he feels right again. He feels like he’s finally coming home.

“I love you so fucking much.” Harry slurs out against Niall’s lips.

“I love you too.” Niall murmurs. “Please – Please say that I can come back home.”

“Only if you promise to never leave us again.” Harry breathes out.

“Not ever.” Niall says adamantly. “You’re my fate, Harry Edward Styles. You’re my fate, and my family, and my heart, and I don’t want to fight that anymore. I haven’t forgiven you completely, and I’m not sure I trust you yet either, and I’m positive that I’m scared out of my fucking mind, but I know that you’re the right choice for me. I’m sorry that it took me so long to figure out what was worth fighting for.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t worth fighting for back then.” Harry whispers. “It wasn’t all on you, Ni. I have to be the one to fight for us too, and what I did before wasn’t fighting for us. I thought it was, but it wasn’t.”

“Then we’ll fight together.” Niall says before pulling Harry back into another kiss. He grips Harry tight, afraid that if he lets go, then he’ll wake up and find out that this has all been a dream. They don’t pull away from each other until Niall’s lung screams in protest of not being filled, and he adds, “There’s nobody I’d rather have by my side.”

“Good. Because I’m going to stay attached to it like glue from now on.” Harry smirks. “Not letting you get away again. So I should ask – Will you, Niall James Horan, marry me? Again?”

“Yes.” Niall breathes out. “I want my husband back.”

“Then let’s get you home.” Harry beams, twining his fingers with Niall’s and dragging him in through the door. “You’re going to wind up getting us both sick again at this rate. Honestly, standing outside in the pouring rain, confessing your love for me? That was stupid. Very romantic, but stupid, and bordering on insane.”

“Insane is kind of my specialty.” Niall hums, blushing as Harry peels the jacket off of his shoulders instead of letting Niall do it himself. “And love makes you do stupid, crazy things.”

“We need to get warmed up.” Harry murmurs, undoing the buttons on Niall’s shirt until it falls off of Niall’s shoulders to the ground with a wet smacking sound. “I’m not finally getting you back, only to have you get pneumonia and die. Our – What did you call it? Epic love story? – It isn’t going to be a tragedy. Not anymore. We’re not going to end up like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Or like Samson and Delilah.” Niall chuckles, grabbing Harry’s shirt by the hem and pulling it off over his head.

“Or like Tristan and Isolde.” Harry hums, wrapping his arms around Niall’s torso and pulling him forward until they’re flush against each other. “We’re going to be better than any of them. That’s what I promise you. I promise that we won’t be a tragedy anymore. I want to write a new story with you. One that has a happy ending.”

“Please.” Niall whimpers, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him hard. He’s cold, but Harry is warm, so he thinks the gooseflesh making his hair stand on end is probably more about the excitement than the chill. He can’t remember the last time that he felt this excited, this hopeful. And maybe he’s getting his hopes up too high, maybe this is all just a disaster waiting to happen again, but he doesn’t care. He finally feels right again, now that he’s finally here in Harry’s arms.

“Papa!” comes an enthusiastic squeal from over to the side, making Niall smile against Harry’s lips. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m coming home.” Niall tells him, breaking apart from Harry and crouching down. “Would that be alright with you?”

“How long?” Noah asks warily, staying on the bottom step rather than coming any closer. Niall can see the excitement flip to caution, see that he’s been the hot stove that Noah’s put his hand on one too many times. That intrinsic trust that a child has for their parent to not hurt them has started to crumble around the edges, and there’s nobody to blame for that except Niall. He’s gone back and forth so many times that he’s nearly given himself whiplash, so he can’t even imagine how Noah must feel.

“For good.” Niall smiles reassuringly.

“What about Mr. Bressie?” Noah questions. “Is he going to live here again too?”

“No!” Harry says a bit too loudly, before blushing and trying again. “I mean – No, bubba, Mr. Bressie isn’t going to live here. It’s just going to be you, and Papa, and me.”

“I don’t understand.” Noah mumbles.

“I know, bubba.” Niall sighs. “And I promise that I’ll explain everything to you when you’re older and can understand. I’m sorry that I’ve put you through all of this, and you have every right to be upset with me. I’m going to do everything I can to make all of this up to you.”

“I want pancakes for breakfast.” Noah says firmly. “And I want to go to the zoo.”

“Um – The zoo might be a bit difficult.” Harry laughs. “We’ll work it out. I’ll make pancakes in –”

“No. I want Papa to make them.” Noah cuts him off.

“It’s your funeral.” Harry snorts. “You’ll regret it in the morning when you’re throwing up.”

“That was one time!” Niall squeaks, blushing furiously when Harry starts to cackle. “And you’re the one that bought the expired eggs!”

“Excuses, excuses.” Harry scoffs. “The eggs may have been expired, but you’re the one that left the centers of the pancakes all raw.”

“I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already making fun of me?” Niall asks incredulously. “I thought that engaged people aren’t supposed to be mean to each other? That’s what you said in Rio.”

“That’s only the first time around.” Harry smirks. “The second time is full of mockery and wild shag-”

“Haz!” Niall yelps. “He’s right there!”

“Oops.” Harry giggles.

“What’s wild shag?” Noah asks.

“Carpeting.” Niall huffs, shooting a glare at Harry. “It’s really fluffy carpet. Don’t worry about it, bubba.”

“Are we getting new carpets?” Noah asks. “Because my friend Eric has one with roads on it for toy cars, and I want one like that.”

“You’re cleaning up that mess in the morning.” Niall mutters at Harry while Noah launches into a very excited retelling of when he and Eric played on the carpet. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re shivering.” Harry murmurs, pressing his torso flush against Niall’s back.

“I’m still wearing very wet trousers.” Niall mumbles.

“Mm, we should get you out of those as soon as possible then.” Harry whispers, trailing his lips up the skin behind Niall’s ear.

“Unbelievable!” Niall repeats, trying to stay indignant and not giggle. Because their son is right there, and he’s happily talking about chasing a car around with a dinosaur with his friend, completely unaware that one of his fathers is teasing the other relentlessly with fluttering kisses and shuddering breaths and brushing lips over the back of the other’s neck. And Niall wants to be annoyed about that, because he’s cold and half naked and it’s entirely inappropriate, but he’s missed this kind of pointless flirting over the past year and a half.

“Noah, baby, you’re supposed to be in bed.” Harry hums. “I know you’re excited that Papa is back, but you need to get some sleep. You have school in the morning.”

“Can I sleep with you guys tonight?” Noah asks, his eyes going wide and pleading.

“Are you good with that?” Harry asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Niall smiles. “You can stay with us tonight, bubba. You go upstairs and wait for us in the bed. We’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Okay!” Noah beams, scurrying up the stairs and leaving Niall and Harry alone again.

“Looks like you’re going to have to wait a bit to finish what you were starting.” Niall chuckles as Noah’s feet disappear from view up the spiral staircase.

“That’s fine.” Harry murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Niall’s neck. “We’ve got time now.”

“What do you think about me calling off of work tomorrow, and us three spending the day together as a family?” Niall asks.

“Noah has school.” Harry reminds him.

“I know.” Niall sighs.

“One day won’t hurt him though.” Harry says quietly. “And I suppose if you can take a day off, then so can he. Just the one though. I don’t want him thinking he can miss a bunch of school.”

“We could drive up to the Colchester zoo.” Niall offers. “Since we can’t take him to the London zoo. Or we could take a train. He’d love that. It wouldn’t be much, but it could feel a bit like a miniature holiday until I can get some proper time off during the summer.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Niall?” Harry snorts.

“Don’t be a dick.” Niall huffs. “I’m trying here.”

“I know.” Harry says softly, tightening his grip around Niall’s waist. “But we don’t expect you to change overnight, Ni.”

“Finally getting my priorities straight after all these years is hardly ‘overnight’.” Niall scoffs. “And it’s not like I’m suggesting that I take a sabbatical. I’m talking about maybe a week or so this summer. Ten days if I can swing it. I kind of used up all of my leave already over the last few months, what with going to Haiti, and being hospitalized, and then getting committed. Those kinds of things eat into vacation time.”

“Hadn’t you technically resigned?” Harry asks. “You know, before the second time in the hospital and being committed.”

“Corden never accepted it, apparently.” Niall shrugs. “He was waiting a few days to see if I would take it back, and when I was committed, he put me on mental-health leave instead.”

“Smart man.” Harry hums.

“One day, the men in my life are going to listen to me.” Niall sighs.

“I will from now on.” Harry murmurs in his ear. “I can’t speak for the other men in your life, but I’ll listen.”

“Even to my stories about my cases?” Niall asks.

“As long as you can edit them down.” Harry chuckles. “My stomach can’t handle your stories. That’s why I always zoned out or fell asleep. I had to focus on not throwing up.”

“Weak.” Niall snorts. “But I think I can manage that. You know, to help your girly little stomach.”

“Arse.” Harry grumbles, biting lightly on Niall’s shoulder and making him squeal.

“You started it with the pancakes story.” Niall giggles. “Mockery and wild shagging, right? That’s what we do the second time around? I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s basically exactly how things were the first time around, but that’s what the second time is supposed to be like, according to you?”

“Can we go back to when the second engagement is supposed to be filled with soppy, loving confessions and being nice to each other instead of mockery?” Harry whines.

“Not a chance.” Niall smirks, turning around in Harry’s arms so that they’re finally facing each other again. “But we can try to balance out the mockery with the soppy, loving confessions, as long as we can keep the wild shagging.”

“Oh, we’re definitely keeping the wild shagging.” Harry grins. “But not tonight. We’ve got a five year old waiting for us up in the bed. And if we’re going to the zoo, then tomorrow won’t have much on that front either.”

“That’s what tomorrow night is for.” Niall hums, nipping at Harry’s bottom lip. “And the anticipation will just make things better. You remember what the sex was like last time we got engaged.”

“Mm, yes, Sir.” Harry purrs, making Niall shudder with the low tone in his voice.

“Don’t you start up with that.” Niall groans, batting at Harry’s chest. “There’s a difference between anticipation and complete sexual frustration. I can’t go sleep with our son in the bed when you get me hard.”

“Could take care of that before we go upstairs.” Harry says with a wolfish grin, trailing his fingers down Niall’s chest. “Celebratory blowjobs?”

“Not tonight.” Niall says softly, tangling his fingers with Harry’s. “Because, even though that sounds fantastic, just sleeping in the same bed with you and Noah again sounds so much better.”

“I understand.” Harry smiles. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes and get you in something warm then.”

“Thank you.” Niall breathes out, pressing forward and giving Harry a gentle kiss, and mumbles, “Thank you for giving me another chance. I won’t fuck it up this time.”

“We won’t.” Harry counters. “We won’t fuck it up. If you’ll believe in me–”

“Then I’ll believe in you.” Niall finishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I can't believe this is it. I've been working on this series off and on for the better part of a year, and it's so surreal to me that it's ending. I really hope people liked this installment, even through all of the angst and the pain. This series has gotten such an insane amount of support, and I can never really express how much that means to me. I want to thank all of the people who have enjoyed this series. You're all my heroes, and I love you more than I know how to say.


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